Image from HDWallpapers |
Who Am I
Red curls prancing,
Freed of brown straight jackets,
scrawled upon the broken glass—
Rust tarnishes the frame,
Like the eyes peering out
rust brown, bright but hidden
those are not the eyes I remember...
Who is she?
Hiding in the realm of reflections deep—
Because she doesn't look like me,
talk like me, think like me...
who is she?
She is strong where I am weak
But then again, weak when I am strong—
If I could trade places,
Tag in and out like a game
an hour behind solid glass
for fifteen minutes of solid change?
If we shared this world,
invisible but invincible—
together we are mighty.
But who is she?
I dig deep to uncover her
Pull her from the depths,
trace the curling cracks
And discover an image
from the pieces of reflective glass...
But I am afraid--
if I push too hard,
if I search too deep
This old mirror will finally shatter
And the girl behind the glass will disappear.
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