Brown eyes full of dreams
She stares out upon the bleak world.
Hair pulled into a messy bun
Arms leaning against a glass window.
Chipped blue nail polish speckles her fingertips.
Everyone hears her
She knows how to talk
To be heard.
She knows when to be funny
And when to be silent.
Her mouth is upturned at the corners
In a small smile.
In her hands she holds the notebook
The notebook that has ink scrawled across the pages
That creates worlds and oceans.
The echo of laughter flits across her face.
I reach out for her
But my hand falls short against a wall of glass.

A mirror.