Mirror Mirror, pt.2

Mirror mirror, on the wall,
I have been through hell,
I've been so high, and then so low,
And I'm not coping well.

I have never asked for this,
I've got it all the same,
And even though I'm twenty-one,
I'll still fuck up again.

The person who returns my stare
Still has those eyes of blue,
But now they're colder, wiser,
And she's fixing them on you.

I want to turn away from her,
I want to start again,
But the mirror's glass has broken,
And, like me, can never mend.

Note: This is a follow-up to a poem that I wrote more than five years ago. You can find it in the very, very earliest of what I've written on here, and it's also linked from my profile.