The mirror broke in front of me
Forming a dark, dingy shadow
"wondering little wonderer"
It said, his voice, thundering.
Numbness became me
I became silent
Something screamed inside me
My wine turned into dark coffee.
How is it that I see him?
My mind whirl pooled and asked.
Oblivion it is
My coffee became a blood stream
YOU ARE READING
Un-mirroring
PoetrySometimes loneliness is a blessing in disguise. Or so she thought.