Writing Prompt

Looking into their eyes, I try to grasp my sense of reality. It is not my reflection, but that of my past accomplice. Striking the mirror, shards of glass explode around, and I look into one of the pieces. The other eyes are gone, replaced with my own— pathetic and full of agony. Letting my senses snap back, I look around the room. The old, public restroom of the school I used to go to. Blood drip...

The shaded window admitted little bands of light which illuminated the floating dust particulate in the air as it passed through. Lines on the floor moved imperceptibly as the sun crept abroad the sky, but I did not move at all. My eyes were only partially open and I felt the bruising around my orbits throbbing, so I did not move. I did not even know how many had survived and was too weak to go in...

Can’t see a mirror on the main road

I just see the reflection of the paint

Feel the fire of the heavy load

Feel the burn from being late

I see my reflection in the water

But cannot see the stream pass

I see the faces of my daughter

In the future and the past

To see a love I’ve never met before

And a girl I cannot ignore

To see a mirror on the floor

To be always wanting more

Can’t see a mirror ...

I looked in the mirror and saw my face melt off into oblivion. The acid was so strong that I realized two hits would have been enough instead of taking four of them at once.

I stared at myself and saw a man who was a beast but yet an extraordinary being. A human being that was capable of infinite greatness and galantry all encapsulated inside a male looking meatsuit.

I saw something no one else ...

When I look in the mirror, I see skin so pale it becomes yellow and red and green.

When I look the mirror, I see a distorted figure and hunched shoulders.

When I look in the mirror, I see black bruises of insomnia underneath hooded green eyes.

When I look in the mirror, I see messy dark makeup that doesn’t fix anything.

When I look in the mirror, I see teeth, not quite entirely white, with lip...

A gauntly figure, skin so discolored it could be mistaken for bone. Eyeliner and mascara that blended together into a sweaty chipped blend, her rouge smeared off the lip and tear marks only emphasized by the eyeliner crying out of her eyes.

Horrid, that’s how she looked.

She hadn’t seen her reflection proper in weeks now- only a droopy disfigurtstion of it in puddles and broken glass.

Perha...

It has been a long time now since I looked in a mirror, since I looked in a mirror and loved what looked back at me. No, the last time I looked in a mirror I gave myself cuts all up my arm after smashing it. I didn’t like what was in the mirror, I wanted a reflection of a beautiful teenage girl with long hair and a perfect figure, that had her whole life planned out. Yet instead I would stare into...

It has been many years since I’ve looked at my own reflection. The last time I did I punched the mirror until it glass fell to the floor like raindrops. Whatever I had seen, wasn’t me. I know myself, or at least I think I do. I can feel the soft curves of my face, and the way my cheeks dimple in when I smile. When I purse my lips I can tell they’re plump, but gentle. I may not be the walking examp...

What is it I see in your eyes?

Two windows in the shape of spheres.

I cannot see, so I must come closer.

I squint at the reflection.

My own eyes are still intact.

I know because when I reach up to feel,

they are still there.

The mirror does the same.

Or rather the beast mimics.

The one with a red body englulfed by flames,

rearing horns,

not the least like me.

Still, it is my reflection looking bac...

[/cw dismorphia]

I try avoid looking in the mirror. The thing is, I don’t like, what I see. When I look in the mirror I can’t really see myself. It’s like I see a different person. It doesn’t feel like me. Everything is so disorted. My face is not my face. When the mouth of the person in the mirror moves, it doesn’t feel like it is me that makes it move. I see into the eyes of the person in the m...