Keara Shea
Missing Reflection
As the now cracked mirror
reveals the tinted
black tear racing
down my face,
I replay the thought
of you
letting go
of my hand for the
very last time.
When the words
I'm sorry
rolled off your tongue,
wrapping around
my neck.
I turned to the mirror
and threw whatever
was in my hands
while watching your shadow
walk out of the door
behind me,
where I now sit,
defeated,
waiting for your
reflection to reappear.