i stared at this meek silhouette in the mirror,
she was so broken,
but all i could conjure was a peculiar, melancholy feeling of pity,
there was a sort of weight on her shoulders, pushing down on her,
so i reached my hesitant fingers out to the cold mirror,
and tried to brush away her tears,
but my wrist snapped back like a rubber band,
because even though her glassy eyes broke my heart,
they suited her,
in a sort of drab, but picturesque way,
there was so much distress,
so much to say,
but she didn't feel obliged, so i didn't pry,
and after an eternity of locking our eyes,
a profound understanding pummeled my gut,
i started taking skeptical steps backwards,
and eventually turned my back to her,
but i looked over my shoulder,
to get one more good look,
and all i could think,
was that i hope she would've done the same for me.
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