top of page
  • 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,


waiting for your

reflection to reappear.

Recent Posts
Search By Tags
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square
bottom of page