I know nothing of her, but of the familiar hurt in her eyes that I occasionally see in the mirror. It's funny how everytime I look into the reflective glass, that I recognize this girl less and less. Once the same, now strangers, I wonder if she knows me? I hear her sing, and the tune faintly sounds like from a dream I once walked through, but all the recollection I had is now slipping away. It is sad that she knows not who I am. I wish I could reach out to her, but she always seems just out of reach. A glance of brown hair following a figure around a corner appears here and there, but she is always gone when I follow.Taking what is left of me with her.
I see her looking at me, and the saddness crushes me. She reaches out, but I am too far. Having being left behind; she wonders aimlessly, lost, looking for a way back. Her hair darkens and her skin pales as she gets farther from me: from who she used to be. I don't know who she is anymore, and I doubt she knows me either. I try to chase her, but she always ends up behind me. I can still feel her hurt, the only tie we have left, and even that is fading to only numbness. She has grown empty, and I; alone. Maybe one day my songs will reach her memories and she can follow it back to me. Maybe one day she will no longer be lost to me, and I to her.
© Copyright 2016 Koshka. All rights reserved.