Crimson red rivers flow from my veins. Making a beautiful masterpiece of art. I sit in awe as I watch the blood make wonderous swirls around the broken mirror in my bathroom floor. I stare into a piece of this shattered glass. And even though I'm crying in this floor. In that little shard of glass I see myself laughing at me. Smiling the darkest of grim smiles I have ever set my eyes on. Why I scream. Why do you taunt me??? Why does my pain entertain you??? But as usual she just stares as if she is waiting for me to answer the question I just asked her. She stays silent. Just watching as I cry.watching as she plots my own demise.  As I beg and plead for answers.  Screaming..... Screaming..... Silence...... Then I hesitate.  Now I'm understanding . at least a little at this point...... She is me and I am her....... The silence I get from her is because I am just looking at myself ..... Myself.Just me. There is no one else in this room. But me, dead in the tiny shards of bloody glass. What have I done!?!?!?!,.....