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