Looking Glass

Ever stumble upon your reflection, accidetally take stock of your appearance and discover you don’t always appear as you would like too? Scary stuff.

Reflection

There…
in the store window

near the cookies,
pink and yellow,

splayed on a glass counter,
my face, white and old,

heavy with loathing,
above the children

who clutter
the sidewalk

to smell the sugar
that seeps into the street

each time the door
swings open

and a bell jingles
like happiness.

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6 thoughts on “Looking Glass

  1. Pingback: The Sandbox Writing Challenge 25 — Vulnerable | Impromptu Promptlings

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