Standing in front of the mirror I see,
something staring back at me.
It\'s hair sticking out at places,
it\'s teeth grimy and dark,
with it\'s eyes a dry red, as if having walked through smoke.
It stares silently,
not saying anything,
as you blink, so does it.
Even if it\'s not you, it does the same.
It\'s not you in the mirror,
it will never be,
and neither will you ever see, what it is.
Forever to haunt you, it will follow.