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  • Writer's picturecoreythecollins


Updated: May 5

The mirror traps her in a way, 

a ghost of smiles and familiar lines. 

Her eyes, 

the curve of her mouth?

They're mine now,

reflections and the echoes 

of a past slipping away.

Some days tho, 

i see her and it's like a warm hand

on my shoulder,

in that moment its a blessing. 

Other days the guilt burns, 

an ice cold emptiness

where her memory should be.

How dare I forget.

How dare I carry on.

There's anger too, 

twisting up inside. 

How dare she leave

and force this life upon me?

Yet, when the tears dry, 

the mirror still speaks the truth: 

her strength lives on in my bones, 

her love is woven into the 

very shape of who i’ve become.

i smile at the stranger with her familiar eyes. 

We are one in this reflection, 

the Mother lost and the son who keeps on breathing.

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