Laraib Fatima

Beyond the Looking Glass: Echoes of Distorted Reality

Looking into mirror, I see an uncanny figure

Stone heart, shaggy hair, sunken cheeks and peculiar eyes

Ruptured, frenzied veins open and wounded, but

no blood coming out as if tired of running now.

I stand now in haze, gazing at the mirror not blinking once

Is this how I look now? Is this how they see me?

the people at bus station, in bus, on roads, at house.

That figure is reaching out, stretching its hand out for me

and I panicked, turned away from mirror and left.

Passing by the road, i felt its enigmatic gaze

so I turned, changed path as if I saw a black cat hissing at me.

At night, in dark the figure is out, looming towards me tiredly

I laid in my bed, paralyzed, terrified, bamboozled as it swamps me

A tear rolled down my left eye.