I look upon the cracked glass.
Glancing into someones past.
Nothing but darkness.
Why. Is. Leaving. So. Hard.
Every time I look behind,
a face is left, but it's not mine.
I promise you, if I must.
Glass. Shatters. I. Fall.
Down the flight of white wood stairs,
I force myself to beware.
Of anything that may prove dangerous.
Light. Goes. Out. So. Must. I.
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