A PERFECT STRANGER

A perfect stranger

Looks back at me from the mirror,

Eyes like mine but colder,

A hollow flame flickering where my soul should be.

It steals my shadow

And walks my footsteps,

Tracing paths I thought were mine,

Filling my rooms with whispers

That taste like my own name.

I scream, but my voice

Is swallowed by glass,

And my hands pass through the reflection

As if it were smoke.

It wears my skin,

Learns my laugh,

Sleeps in my bed,

And eats my meals,

A ghost learning to live in my life.

I wake to find it waiting,

Smiling in the mirror with patience I cannot match.

Each day I shrink,

A fading silhouette behind its rising presence,

My memories dripping into its eyes.

And one night, I vanish completely,

The stranger steps out,

Perfect in every line,

Walking my streets,

Living my life,

While I linger

Only in the darkness

Behind the glass,

A shadow of a self

That never existed.

©Diana Mistera