And there she was looking into the eyes of her reflection, reaching through the pane of glass and shaking hands with the demon inside her. The one aching to get out, the one begging for attention. And part of her felt guilty for keeping it locked up and tossed off. Part of her wondered why we were taught to. There was this need she had to release the beast, give into her guilt, and shed the skin she had been given by society. Because at the end of the day there isn’t much left of the human experience if we don’t allow and celebrate our pain. Allowing the demons stuck inside our meat suit to showcase their desires. And that’s what she saw when she looked in the mirror, it was something more than just a reflection, but a projection of her deteriorating existence and the shape of the monster that consumed her.