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I see my eyes in the mirror, But they do not seem, To belong to me. They are empty, Of a different essence. Straining, Attempting to find a glimpse, Of familiarity. Without success, My anger boils. Starting at the bottom of my stomach, And pouring out my ears and mouth. A loud bang is followed by clanging. Glass falls around my feet, Blood flows from my hand, Hanging beside me. The mirror is broken, And displays me more accurately, Than ever.
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 5:22 AM UTC
bloodshot
I see my eyes in the mirror, But they do not seem, To belong to me. They are empty, Of a different essence. Straining, Attempting to find a glimpse, Of familiarity. Without success, My anger boils. Starting at the bottom of my stomach, And pouring out my ears and mouth. A loud bang is followed by clanging. Glass falls around my feet, Blood flows from my hand, Hanging beside me. The mirror is broken, And displays me more accurately, Than ever.
faithinwords
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 5:22 AM UTC
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