Confessional Poetry: The Mirror

I stare into those hollow glass eyes

Are they hers or are they mine?

Feeling empty with nothing to live for

No energy of life worth living

She is not real anymore

But a ghost girl

A line drawing

A line drawing she practices everyday and night

A tattoo

Her mark

Or my mark?

As I flinch over the sink

Into the shattered glass of our life

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