POETRY: Looking Glass

By Freya Cottrell | BA English, Stage 3

And what Alice found there, one thing was

For certain John Tenniel drew no such beauty behind this curtain

Of greasy, tangled Goldilocks, the cobalt of her eyes and flouncy frocks Mother made

Her wear though she would despair trousers are safer in war –

Fare of heart and black of shoe, and through and through she wished the vorpal

Blade to snicker-snack, and take her head so that the dread of day

After day seeing it unwanted upon her shoulders would pass and she would laugh

At whom she used to think she saw in that looking glass.

 

Curiosity, curiosity killed no cat of mine – mine tells me

I’m mad, we’re all mad you know and so and so he smiles until

Only his smile is left upon my windowsill. So I take his advice and I smile too

But the smile I smile does not undo what I try not to think. Who is Alice

Anyway? Why isn’t she visiting Wonderland today? – Because she’s the wrong Alice

That is why, I know this now, I look inside at the design I design myself to be

When I’ll become finally free of this flaxen, blue eyed prison that no one can visit

Because the creature within will burn until it is free, and finally, finally they will see me.

 

No room, no room then piece by piece, drained of colour the

Awful beast emerged behind those Cobalt eyes shedding its disguise like

A spider stepping out of its skin, I’ve found a nicer one within myself you know and so – Off

With your head. A pile of peel at her feet scales on her shoulders a tail at her seat and with a smile

Of conceit her vertical pupils look back into that looking glass she had feared for years

And years until right now, she finally can stand proud and gaze wondrously at

Her truest form. Her jaws that bite her claws that catch her old skin cannot match

The call of the Jabberwock inside, no need to run anymore nor need to hide. No more

Need for her to pour over that looking glass in malice. Finally, finally no longer Alice.

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