as I look in my mirror the truth is clear.  I've come far and I've a long way to go, will I ever find myself? only God can know."the eyes are windows to the soul". I look at mine and I see a infinate war, and the ecoing prayre on my lips is "no more". I've become confused, one moment heven, the next hell. and I dare to think I'm mentaly unwell again. for what else could be the explaination, the cause of being the only one to see men in monsters, monsters in men. my lips, they are one of the few things that men dezire about me, and such a great burden they can be. I don't mean to be harsh or unkind, but why are there so few who walk the earth who care about what goes on in a woman's mind?. when I was yongest I looked like a doll; young looked ugly, now I'm only at best plain. I am traped in a endless cycle doomed to repeat it untill death, again and again.  the mirror's great truth: I am eternaly myself.