REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR

A girl sits and stares at the reflection.
A stranger glances back. A woman who resembles a memory.
Her hair was unkempt; the strands would fall over her face covering her eyes.
Her eyes look tired, and puffy.
Her cheeks were smudged and *****. Her skin is dry as a desert. The only relief to her was a stain left from her tear that seemed to give her cheeks a bit of rejuvenation.
She looks old, even though she is young.
She doesn’t*t smile, her smile is lost.
There are scars all over her face.
Some are straight. Some are crooked.
Each one of them cause by a different reason. Some are even inflicted by her. As if to release the pain that grows within. Some of them still bleed, some of them becoming infected.
She will never look as she wants to look.
She will never be the diamond in the rough. Never.
The strange woman reaches to the pane.  Hear hand is pressed up against the pane she looks in your eyes with wonder. She’s asking herself. Why does this girl not smile? Why does she cry?
Has she gone through the pain that I have?
She knows she will never know your answer; she will never be a whole person ever again.
She screams but no one hears, and she bangs her first against the pane, but no one sees her. She’s trapped in the misery behind the pane.
There she will stay until the mirror breaks and she is set free.