When I Look into Her Eyes I See


(Credit: Joshua Rodriguez on Unsplash)


Her eyes aren’t windows

To some soul hiding within.

They are a mirror.




(Credit: Goodreads.com/author_blog_posts, Donna Pyle)

My knuckles bleed from breaking mirrors. Shards are digging through my soles and through my soul. Still, it would have been worth it, if the mirrors would stop looking at me, stop showing me dreams twisted into nightmares. I thought it was working for a while, I thought I could destroy them like this, but then I realised

that every time I break a mirror,

I am only making more mirrors.


Rose love letter

(Credit: vidokusr)

My Love,


Why did you leave me in the hall of mirrors? Were the distortions too much for you? Was it something I said? You forgot you white silk handkerchief.

Where did you go? I wandered the carnival for an hour, looking for you. The only one who remembered you was the fortune teller, and she just shook her head and told me to go home.

Your maid insists that you are not home every time I come to visit, but she keeps the flowers. She kept the handkerchief too last time I came by, I hope you did not think I meant to keep it from you.

Why do you not answer my letters? Please answer this one at least, if only to let me know that you want to be rid of me. The silence is unbearable. Yesterday I even thought that I heard your voice, but when I turned, there was only a mirror.


Yours, if you will still have me,


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