Reflection

In the window’s glass, my past becomes clear,

a blur of mistakes, the whispers I fear.

The judgment of strangers hangs heavy like mist,

while I search for the girl that I thought I’d kissed.

Each line on my face tells a story of loss,

a journey through shadows that I can’t emboss.

Faded and frayed, the outline is weak,

like a dream that once danced but now cannot speak.

I turn from the glass, its truth cutting deep,

remnants of shame in the memories I keep.

Oh, to wipe it away, to start fresh and bright,

yet I’m caught in this echo, this lingering night.