She looks at the mirror
She sees her mirror image
But she didn’t want to see herself
Like this way ever.
The Kajol, which once beautifully darkened her eyes
Has now smudged so bad
And the tears drop down her cheeks
Accompanied by the smudged kajol.
The cheeks, once rosy
Now so pale, seems almost bloodless
Once nourished with moisturisers,
Now soaked with those tears.
Her lips, EVERPINK
Once softer than petals
Now drier than desert, and wounded
The blood hasn’t stopped still.
Her hair, once shinier than the morning sun
Now as dull as cloudy sky.
She didn’t expect to be like this
She hated her current looks
She hated the image more than anything
Once she had nothing to hate.
She looks at her mirror image
With her scornful eyes
And takes the showpiece of lovebirds
And throws it to the mirror.
Now she looks at the shattered pieces
Every piece makes the image
Of parts of her face, again those images
She hates the most
And she laughs out at the pieces
As there’re less glass pieces than the pieces of her heart.