Mirrors

The mirrors,
they were initially-
Good;

But time, you see,
It's only a matter of time-
Until, those shadows gobble up
Another flimsy image-

Rend another shroud,
Of withering skin,
Freckles; and my flattened nose-
with the hints of a skeleton;

Or creep upon
Another lucid hieroglyph
Squirming within
Stratified epithelium

Fifteen years ago, you see,
I wouldn't have thought,
I couldn't have thought-
Of such horror-

… within my very own reflection;

The mirrors,
they were, initially-
Good; to me,
And now they're perfect.

You said time heals, isn't it?