Writing in mirrors,fear and lonliness creep on by,smooth,letting go of the reflections you hold.Yourself is more than the mirror reveals,no one seems to understand how real.Writing in mirrors,on top of the world,seeing myself,is no big deal.Through my eyes,used to be hope,just getting up is something to do now.Feel inside,instead of cold dead broken things.Feel like the living is more than my dreams.-Celeste
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