Through The Looking Glass

I watch with forgotten eyes as my hand etches fingerprints into the glass, leaving behind only faint traces of my existence to what lies inside. Cloaked in invisible flesh I stand peering into the looking glass, knowing this is as close as I’ll ever get. Dangerously close & yet far enough to be abandoned.  

To be outsider, forever looking in, just beyond reach – powerless to change –

that is the real tragedy

©Gina Jenkins 

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