The Reflection

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It doesn't have to be complicated.

It doesn't have to be painful.

The soft sounds at night, the ones I make.

You think I'm asleep but I'm staring back at myself;

the reflection like a cursed object.

Something I'll never truly desire.

And when it's gone and the sun rises in the East, 

I remember it all again.

Like a terrible nightmare except this time I'm awake.

And it did happen.

And I loved every second of it; 

until the sun rose in the East.


And when the day has come I close my eyes.

I fall asleep without another thought.

Without that terrible, consuming reflection.

Waiting,

staring back at me. 

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