you, with the eyes of a child whose soft light has been extinguished by the staleness of the world your gentle soul glistening in the starlight whose tears are those that fall from your sweet eyes? whose pain? • I see myself in the reflection of everything I write A blood dripping mirror whose sharp edges I cut myself on long ago Who is that looking back at me? As different as they look, they are all too familiar The circles under their eyes and the downward turn of their lips resembling mine They are crying… I reach my fingers to my face and find them to be tainted with tears as well… - We Are the Same
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