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I have lived here for years,
In stark invisibility–
As clear as the windows
In the room you gave me,
And oh, wouldn’t you love
To look through me each morning and see
A perfect sunrise
And not the pleading in my eyes?
I watch you, throughout the day;
Seeing you through the mirror
While you wash your face–
I can’t turn away, knowing
That I am so close to you,
Save the mirror,
And the way your back’s
Turned toward me.
I’d do anything to be close to you,
Sitting on my bed in my room,
Writing desperately in my journal
About you,
Knowing that if you could read it,
You would understand it all,
But I know it would appall
The whiteness of your walls,
The clean words you talk,
The perfect life you live
So each day, I quietly shut the lock.
More and more I write,
While you tap away at your desk–
And I think
If it weren’t for the wall between us,
We would touch.
And maybe, you could hear
This silent screaming for mercy
Inside my head.
When I look at you,
I see your blood rushing through you,
Your heart beating,
Your very being–
What do you see when you look at me?
The pearly whiteness of clean bones?
The emptiness of a hollow soul?
Or the bareness of your walls?
I don’t know how to make you see me,
So each day, I reach out further
And grasp at nothing.

She falls softly down from towering pedastools...

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The following comments are for "La Femme Sans Espoir-- draft negative one"
by shefallssoftly

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