Her Last Haiku

My life is like a lake,

All water and round,

So clear it is a mirror,

Or rather, a looking glass.

But when you look a little closer,

Dip your toes beneath the surface,

this happens too often:

attachment to that one friend;

a text—a hey—oh look,

i'm crying again.

you read it but you don't respond,

you play your games instead;