I've always been one
to wear sorrow in my eyes.
Lifetimes have passed
and I am still here
wondering how I managed to survive.
At forty one, my soul is so much older.
A million years is long enough,
my eyes are growing tired
my skin is not what it used to be
and I can't reverse the effects.
I look in the cracked mirror
a dual image of who I see
and who I really am.
I've searched for so long,
will he know me to see me,
or will he look right through me
I'm not what I used to be...
and I'm afraid to be alone.











*hugs*


