I look at my reflection in the small mirror on the back of the wall and see a stranger. She has a long black hair like me, with a narrow face like mine but that's where similarities stop... her eyes is a deep black well of sorrow that seems like it changes all of her features. She can't possibly be me, though she move when i move.
YOU ARE READING
Words for Souls
PoesiaThese pieces are based on the stokes of my own hands, derived from my heart's own feelings and produced by my own mind. Emotions are like the gushing river, let it flow, let it free and let people see its blue waves, feel its coldness.
