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.

elise.writer

VT

16 years old

More by elise.writer

  • fragile foundation

    every twist of inadequacy's blade

    (each one worse than the previous)

    fell in a rhythmic order, one that your silence

    carried in. did you hate me?

    you'd never say so. so blindly, i never changed.

  • sunday nights

    sunday nights are my own.

    old music in the corners of my mind

    pen scratches on paper, ten thousand poems

    two hundred and seventy-two

    little golden lights, 4 walls

    that mirror my soul.