My mirror must just be mistaken. It's flimsy glass full of errors and deformations... Innocently creating ripples and alterations. It just has to be the reason why that the beautiful girl you see... Is nowhere close to the same girl that's appearing only to me.


Fragments of myself have been hovering, Suspended above me in my own abyss of isolation. And all this time I've been trying so hard to grab ahold of them, Repeatedly reaching out in acts of desperation. But every time I grasped to catch them... My own touch had just pushed them farther away.


Pitch black and quarter to twelve, we walked on the beach barefoot on shells. Stars guided our path to low tide, the oncoming waves slowing our strides. My blonde hair had been tangled in the breeze... But we still stood to take in all we couldn't see.