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  Mar 2019 mare
Lillian Teresa
The girl in the puddle
Looks like a woman

Maybe the ripples
Warp my view-
Maybe not! But
I can't see clearly, anyway.

Her smile
Kind of looks like mine

Her longing ties strings to my heart
And pulls; I want to love her
Someone should.

She's been alone too long
Been at home too much
Been a *****
To get along with.

I see her again in the window
Of a shop; stalking me.
I can't escape her.

I want to leave her
Need to please her
Who is she, anyway?

I ask,
But she won't reply

I take,
And she does not give

She throws,
Still I do not catch.

I pick a flower
Bend over a pond
And place it behind her ear-

She does not thank me,
But-

Her smile
Kind of looks like mine
I wrote this during my last stay at a psychiatric clinic where I was challenged to write more positively about myself.
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