Alice! Am I?

I stare and the more I stare the more it is clear

I am not there, no more than the Cheshire cat

Who is the man with the small cup of tea?

And why is he toasting me?

The faucet, the running water, all melodic

As are the songs from the wee characters running through the glass

I look again, and such a nice smile but certainly that is not all

Where did I go, can I be found, I feel so small and ever shrinking

Is there still time, time…Oh I have another duel with queen of swords

To some the queen of hearts, but I have none, at least not now

The queen has had it since I began my journey

The pain is almost numbing and I rarely feel much more than a prick

But I will attempt to fight, hate to break stride, especially now

I am too used to death; I die daily, sometimes twice

The rabbit bids me to follow, but to where it leads?

I am certain only deeper into the abyss, is there anywhere else?

Certainly not, I have not known of it

The water has ceased, and now beads of perspiration drip

From the flesh of the absent and frail

Does it matter, not to some, but other disagree

What about the smile, is it really me, really?