Black hair, black eyes,
The mirror image of me,
But am I a disguise,
The person I don't want to be?
I can't see past myself.
It's too convoluted.
I want to be more than this shell,
But I've been overdiluted.
Following what he said, she said,
Becoming a shadow of dreams,
Like I've been left for dead,
No one's heard my screams.
But what if this mirror could shatter,
Leaving shards of broken glass,
Will the pieces eventually matter?
Will the image ever be whole?
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