Look into the window.
It was a mourning mirage until the day the glass shattered.
Than a hundred different pieces created a distorted picture that made more sense than none.
The shards killed the face that I remembered.
The reflection was ugly, a lost identity.
Swimming with sharks of course you'll get bit.
The deeper and darker waters were always more dangerous.
But that's the way you liked it.
Anchored to your own opinion, sinking.