(6th)
I grab the shiny blade and slit my wrists. My window curtains are flowing gracefully along with my hair. I allow my blood to flow into the chalice and gone is the mist.
I look into the mirror and see myself. My insecurities, my twisted beauty, my lack of self-help. I turn the lights off and light a candle, is this too much for me to handle?
My arms and face turn pale as I look into the mirror, I glace around the room and its fine interior.
I watch as my eyes turn dark and I smile. The blood in the chalice is now on my desk in a pile
My reflection crawls out of the mirror and drinks my blood. It tucks me into my bed and sings me a song. I go to sleep as the entitly gives me a hug, and The Mirror breaks.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry By A 6th Grader
PoetryPoetry written by a 6th grader that I know. She wants to share her poems with the world, and hopes other people enjoy or relate to them.
