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You became everything I prayed I would find, A perfect reflection designed for my mind. Same music. Same sorrow. Same dreams. Same scars. You spoke like the moonlight had handed you stars. You moved with precision, too polished, too fast, Like someone rehearsing a role meant to last. At first it felt holy, like fate in disguise, But predators often arrive angel-eyed. You mirrored my trauma to open the gate, Then positioned yourself inside of my fate. You studied abandonment, learned all my fears, Then weaponized tenderness throughout the years. The cruelest manipulators rarely scream loud, They hide in compassion, humility shrouds. They offer you comfort, then quietly feed, Turning emotional hunger into dependency. And slowly I noticed the shifts in your skin, The masks changing colors depending who’s in. No stable reflection. No grounded identity. Just fragments of people absorbed for utility. That is the tragedy narcissists bring: They mimic your soul while possessing no thing. A mirror can copy your movement and grace, But never possess a true human face. So now I move carefully, guarding my flame, Because chemistry alone means absolutely nothing. And I no longer chase what sparkles in black, Because mirrors look beautiful — but they never love back. 🖤🔥
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May 17
May 17, 2026 at 11:26 PM UTC
Mirrors Dont Love You Back
You became everything I prayed I would find, A perfect reflection designed for my mind. Same music. Same sorrow. Same dreams. Same scars. You spoke like the moonlight had handed you stars. You moved with precision, too polished, too fast, Like someone rehearsing a role meant to last. At first it felt holy, like fate in disguise, But predators often arrive angel-eyed. You mirrored my trauma to open the gate, Then positioned yourself inside of my fate. You studied abandonment, learned all my fears, Then weaponized tenderness throughout the years. The cruelest manipulators rarely scream loud, They hide in compassion, humility shrouds. They offer you comfort, then quietly feed, Turning emotional hunger into dependency. And slowly I noticed the shifts in your skin, The masks changing colors depending who’s in. No stable reflection. No grounded identity. Just fragments of people absorbed for utility. That is the tragedy narcissists bring: They mimic your soul while possessing no thing. A mirror can copy your movement and grace, But never possess a true human face. So now I move carefully, guarding my flame, Because chemistry alone means absolutely nothing. And I no longer chase what sparkles in black, Because mirrors look beautiful — but they never love back. 🖤🔥
PatriciaAScott
Written by
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 11:26 PM UTC
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