somewhere across the mirror gap

i can only watch from afar, invisible

a ghost in your eyes, as smoke overwhelms you,

charcoal coating your lungs. i know

it's not what you want. we know

we didn't expect for it to end like this,

for us to end like this. i can see you

reaching for me. i'm here, on the other side

of the mirror. but it's one of those

with a gap between the reflection and reality,

between what we could be and what we

are. it doesn't matter how far we reach.

how deeply we love. we couldn't, we wouldn't,

they all say we shouldn't. so the gap

becomes a canyon, a fracture, too far to build

a bridge. a world away, a crack down the middle. and now

i can barely see you on the other side,

because it's all filled with smoke.



15 years old

More by elise.writer

  • butterflies

    i don't want to love someone

    because i'm supposed to

    you told me, one night in mid-july.

    warm air and sun fading in the sky,

    i want to fall in love with someone

  • lotus

    i've heard this story a thousand times before.

    i've seen it unfold. it started with a glance, became a smile,

    became a longing. when i realized it was my turn,

    i was too late. no one told me how hard it would be

  • second thoughts

    The more you became a memory, the more I'd fall in love.

    I still remember that night.

    But I remember before, even more. I dreamed of you at night

    I wrapped myself in your arms by day.