Funhouse Mirrors
The captivating instantaneous thrills of funhouses come to an end fairly quickly
After twists and turns
Dead ends, rolling floors
The short lived journey is always finished off by the funhouse mirrors
The younger me, clad in little braided pigtails, was smiling ear to ear looking into the mirror
Through little toothless gaps of baby teeth Came bubbly giggles
Giggles that filled the funhouse
A bright melody carried into the radiant heat of summer
The younger me skipped away from those funhouse mirrors to the cotton candy stand without a care in the world
She savored the sugary pink clouds with her sticky little fingers; not an ounce of guilt
After a while though, the funhouse mirrors didn't stay in the funhouse
They followed me
Every mirror I look into is a funhouse mirror
I stand here now looking into the warped reflection
This distorted image staring back at me
Giggles do not fill this room and I won't skip happily away
I'm staring at this false perception, picturing the cotton candy; those pink clouds of sugar
Imagining I can feel the warmth dissolve on my tongue
Taste the sweetness without the guilt
I stare at the mirror and feel nostalgia wash over me
It's a sad reminder of golden days that have turned to gray, and of bubbly giggles turned to sobs
The kind of sobs where your throat is strained and you've run out of tears to cry
The kind where you're left gasping for air, struggling to fill your lungs
I feel that little vein right above my right eyebrow throb from the pressure of clenching my eyes shut so tight
Desperately trying to protect myself from that warped image in front of me
If only funhouse mirrors would stay in funhouses