a slight squint of your eyes,
and just a flick of the wrist,
and we're back to where we started.
they were right when they said
"things never change, little girl",
and I was silly to believe otherwise.
I see your face in my mirror
but something about the image
makes my stomach pirouette.
maybe it's not really you.
maybe it's just my mind's projection
of what you look like in my nightmares.
it seems too vivid to be anything but you,
but I should know better than to think
you'd be anywhere but your own world.
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