I look in the mirror what do I see but a stranger looking back at me. I blink my eyes, and the stranger remains in my sight. How does he copy my every move? How does he seem to know my every action as I make it? The man in the mirror is a stranger someone I do not know, who looks back at me seemingly into my soul. I don't know who he is, I don't know why he chose me to be but he shares my reflection, or am I but a reflection of him? Does he think and move, his actions causing me to follow suit? My life merely a puppet on a string? If that were so, that would explain the emptiness so, that would explain the void I have inside. It would explain why I feel the disconnect from life itself. If I were the reflection, life would make so much more sense. Alas, I am no puppet. I am no reflection. The trauma accumulated has created this void. the trauma accumulated has created this pain. I don't recognise the reflection, but I recognise the fire in his eyes, I see the determination welling up inside, and one day soon, I hope to see me. K
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