The Girl On the Other Side

I know what I think 
When I place thin fingers upon the reflecting glass
It is a drowning ship in my chest that makes my heart sink 
As I critique my skin, pluck apart and harass 
Yet I always have hope that maybe the girl on the other side
Doesn't feel grief when she looks at me 
That perhaps she believes it is what is on the inside
That makes a person be. 







-anna sluder

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