the face in the mirror
is a lie. i don't trust
the reflection i see. the
shadows of hard days
gone by smudging the
skin under the eyes,
cloudy with too much
work and not enough
sleep. i can't bare to
look at myself. the face
in the mirror is definitely
a lie. whoever is in there
has very obviously come
undone, and i wonder
about her. i don't know her
but i worry that people who
do know her don't recognize
that there is an unstrung
friend moving silently
amongst them, smiling, nodding
at their stories and woes
revealing little of herself.
i feel sorry for her,
the face in the mirror.
the beautiful, unstrung
friend, hidden and
moving through it
alone.
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