Old Writings: Untitled

(So this is a piece I wrote before I even started to really understand who I really was.  This probably should have been a clue)

Looking in my smoke filled mirror,
I watch the other me appear,
We are so alike, and yet not,
All my words are a jumbled knot,
We look, we think, we smile the same,
But she is stuck inside her frame,
A veil of glass that stands between,
Myself stuck here, and my would be queen,
I’d smash the glass, I’d pull her through,
But she fears she’ll shatter too,
So in her box she wishes to remain,
I wonder if to her I look the same.

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