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The Image of the Image in the Mirror
Broken lines and broken wrists
Beyond the eyes I felt more
Than I ever felt in my whole existence
What purity has been stolen from me?
That I can no longer see around me
The stale air growing colder with each lie
The dark beating in sync with my heart
So close I must have been lost
Still the names I once had
Wander on without me
Just an excuse not to be me
I know my name, seen the face
But never felt at home behind the flesh
Never seen anything that could hold me
Do you creep upon me to save yourself?
When you dream are you crippled
I touch the mirror but I'm not there
Just an image of faded photographs
To feel at home, to be whole, here at the soul
Where it all started, all got muddled up
Those eyes, I've seen 'm more than once
But never knew what lay behind
Now I'm beginning to see the dreaded truth
It is not much worse than the blessed lies