You said you weren’t coming back
but I see you in mirror reflections.
When I turn round, you

Within a flaw
in the glass, there is a
I claw at its cracks.

You cannot fool me.
I am a free soul. You will
Torture me no longer.

If I scrape hard enough, it
will break, and I will be
So I scrape until my hands are numb.


It finally snaps, and I
gasp. I cut myself on the smooth
The blood runs wild and happy.

–  Anne Pyle

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