Mirror, Mirror

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There wasn’t a single moment of solitude inside this prison. The walls screamed of being bare without your pictures nailed to their surfaces. The floor creaked in heartache without the weight of you on its shoulders. And me? I stumbled down the...

There wasn’t a single moment of solitude inside this prison. The walls screamed of being bare without your pictures nailed to their surfaces. The floor creaked in heartache without the weight of you on its shoulders. And me? I stumbled down the hall in my best straight line, knocking everything over with my swollen heart just trying to get to the kitchen. Like the nightmare it was, the ghost of you brushed past me in the hallway every morning and left your scent dancing in my nostrils. Every single day was hell, and like hell, I burned. The way your hair fell over your eyes when you would sheepishly stare at the ground was breathtaking. Half of your smile was still enough to light a room. Lightheartedly, you’d smirk before you looked up to finish what you were saying, Nobody was as genuine as you and I truly believed that. I grabbed my coffee cup from the cupboard, drained the remains into its tiny canyon and slurped it cautiously on my way to the bathroom. I flipped the light switch, set my cup on the counter and peered upwards into the mirror. My hair fell over my eyes as I sheepishly brought them upright from staring at the ground. I smirked before angling my face just perfectly center. “Why are you doing this,” I asked.

My reflection bore an angry look. “I scream about the pictures you’ve hung on my surfaces. Although they may look like you, we both know better. When you walk across the floor, it burns me alive to know the false truths you keep inside. Your swollen heart is not from disease or condition, it is from holding yourself hostage for too long.” She reached outside the mirror and grabbed me by the throat. “Today it stops. I am tired and weak and I cannot pretend any longer. I’m not asking, I’m telling.” After her feet solidly hit the ground beneath the two of us, she looked at me exhausted, “So tell me, how’s the coffee here?”

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