What do you see when the mirror stares back?

looming shadows of darken'd regret,

of unlived days, of shortened sentience

Do you see past your skeletons in the closet?

of blooming flowers from the grave

Are you wreathing of what's left

that grew from where the heart was supposed to be there,

unwound from the empty ribcage

It has become a habit, to pick darkness

to uproot the illusions of hope

Why, you ask me, do I find myself

choked in the swirls of smoke , when you know

you never let the windows open

Scorn these shackles, they exist for a fleeting moment

until we learn to heal our wounds and walk with our scars away

The particular topic I chose for this was how our own minds have become dark recesses to us. How it's poisoning us, making us think that we don't have any escape from a depressed life. Know that there is always light behind the darkness. All we have to do is fight for it.