what lies behind the mirror

what makes you even ask

it's never what we long for

since we hide behind a mask

or is it masks that we don

ever more than one

a face for each occasion

lest we come undone

fall apart, implode, decay

frighten the world away

leaving us alone and fey

to all our fears now prey

Should we look behind the glass?

Do we really want to know?

Is ignorance truly bliss?

Shall we just enjoy the show?

I loved the way you avoid me

I loved the way you see me as a mistake

I loved the way you act as if nothing happened

I loved the way you avoided that one last glance,

as you turn the corner without looking back at me.

I loved the way you think I am worthless

I loved the way you hate me

I loved the way you disgusted me

I loved the way you blocked me

I loved the way you finally moved on without me

I loved the way how you forgot about me

I wish

I could love me the way I loved you!

In the small town of Ravenswood, a haunted mansion stood at the edge of the woods, shrouded in mystery and surrounded by tales of unspeakable horror. Locals dared not approach after sundown, for the Whispering Shadows emerged, a spectral force that tormented anyone who crossed its path.

Legend had it that a family, long forgotten, met a tragic end within the mansion's walls. Their tortured spirits lingered, consumed by darkness and despair. As midnight approached, the air thickened with an eerie silence, broken only by the faint whispers that echoed through the decaying halls.

One fateful night, a skeptical journalist named Emma decided to unravel the truth behind the haunted mansion. Armed with a dim flashlight and a heart pounding with curiosity, she stepped into the shadows that devoured the moonlight. Little did she know, the spirits within hungered for the living.

As Emma delved deeper into the mansion's secrets, the atmosphere grew colder, and the whispers intensified. The walls seemed to breathe, and the floor creaked under an invisible weight. Unseen hands brushed against her skin, leaving behind a trail of ice.

A ghostly child's laughter echoed through the corridors, a haunting melody that sent shivers down Emma's spine. The air carried the scent of long-forgotten memories, and the walls began to bleed with the sorrows of the past. Each room revealed a new chapter of horror, and the ghosts, desperate for release, sought a vessel to share their torment.

Emma, determined to document the paranormal, found herself ensnared in a web of supernatural terror. Whispers turned into chilling screams, and shadows morphed into ghastly apparitions. The line between the living and the dead blurred as Emma became a reluctant conduit for the spirits' anguish.

As the night wore on, Emma's flashlight flickered, and the mansion plunged into complete darkness. The Whispering Shadows, now unleashed, surrounded her. Desperate pleas and mournful wails filled the void as Emma struggled to escape the grip of the spectral entities.

The mansion seemed to breathe one final breath, exhaling a malevolent force that sent Emma reeling. With a blood-curdling scream, she vanished into the abyss, her fate sealed by the insatiable hunger of the Whispering Shadows.

In the morning, the townsfolk discovered the mansion, now more foreboding than ever. Its windows glowed with an otherworldly light, and the whispers persisted, warning all who dared to enter. The legend continued, each whispered tale weaving into the haunting narrative of Ravenswood's most terrifying ghost story.

"Your life is sad."

He spat this out with disgust evident in his tone, turning around and slamming the door as he left.

There was a time when he stood with me through it all; my highs and lows, my falling, my flying. There is a limit to a person's patience, however kind they might be. His wore thin eventually, watching me destroy myself slowly through every means possible. As I crumbled, when he would have once held out his hands to catch the pieces; now he simply watches.

"I lived it anyway." I mumbled at the closed door, waiting.

I visited the beach last week. At sunset. I loved how the sunlight hit the water, glowing like diamonds.

I remembered the day we met on a hot summer evening four years back, and you were making us tea. I had just read the actual real story of the little mermaid that day and wanted to tell you how at the end of it all she had no heart to kill the prince with the dagger that, if stained with his blood before dawn, would give her back the gift of her life as a mermaid. But if she failed to do this, she would die.

She couldn’t do it. She didn’t do it. She jumps into the water at the crack of dawn and turns into sea-foam.

I remembered this when I was on the beach

There was foam, so much sea foam.

It was so sad.

I was so sad.

And then I remembered this quote by the same author- ‘a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more’.

It feels like that for me now. This loss- losing you- keeps burrowing so deep that it won’t stop, and I don’t know how deep it will go. If I did, if I could quantify it, I would know that there’s a bottom that I’ve reached, a sort of absolution. But that doesn’t happen. It goes on. It keeps going on.

I don’t see an end in sight, for now.

Somehow a part of me that is still in love with the memory of you likes that.

~Loss.

The dim lighting of this place sets a romantic mood, a mood that I quite enjoy. Red velvet fabric seats fuel passion with the burning unscented candles spread across the place. Every black linen top table is filled with beaming guests. The giant glass windows surrounding the place reflects back the city lights of a lively city. Soft piano music adds charm to the venue.

My roaming eyes return to the man across from me. His eyes are deeply furrowed as he looks over the selection of imported wines. His ivory skin contrasts the jet darkness from his silken hair. His golden rims are innocent, inviting. Yet, as his brown eyes meet mine, his little smirk warns me to proceed with caution. Kyro Reed, the man who seduced me to this date. I wasn't a woman who was easily swayed by dating apps, but Kyro's look and humor were one's I had to personally indulge in.

"Surely you're showing off bringing me to a place like this." I say, lowering my menu and staring into his trap.

"It's our first date and I'm all about first impressions." Kyro cooly shrugs as he waves over our waiter, "And I am a gentleman so please, order whatever you please, my treat."

His lips have a way of moving, a way of seducing me as he orders us a bottle of good rich red Italian vintage wine. There was a way in which Kyro unintentionally flashed his teeth when he grinned and spoke that revealed the whitest of porcelain hidden in his mouth. If I wasn't careful, I'm sure this man could bite.

I wasn't one to waste my time on a seven-course meal but for Kyro, I was quickly learning I would do anything. His cool posture, his confidence, his mindfulness, he surely wasn't a good man. His breath alone was melting me, dripping my being into my seat.

"How do you feel about murder?" Kyro's question comes up unexpectedly but simply amuses me as I unintentionally smile, keeping my gaze fixated on the cut mango fruit on my plate.

"How do you feel about it?" I ask, raising my gaze to him.

Kyro smirks, leaning back into his seat. "I quite enjoy it."

Humming to myself I nod, picking up my knife slowly and raising it up as I twist it in my fingers.

"It's my kink." I joke, knowing it's a hidden truth causing Kyro to remove his glasses.

"I have a person in mind." Kyro suggests, piquing my interest.

"Oh?" I lean closer, hoping he would continue.

"There's this man who...simply can't keep his word and as a man who is required to work with people, he is giving me stress that I do not need." Kyro shrugs.

"Easy." I said, reaching for my glass of wine and taking a sip.

"Easy, that's all?" Kyro raises a questioning brow as I hum, nodding my head.

"I am a woman who enjoys a good thrill, Kyro." I admit, glancing to the table of businessmen besides us.

"You're peculiar." He mutters, "At least hear me out before blindly agreeing." Kyro was cute, perhaps a lot more thoughtful than I expected. Licking my lips I nod, hoping he could seduce me with his words and schemes.

Then again, his lips have a way of sucking the soul of anyone. Unfortunately, there was a finger full of what he could suck on and that didn't involve anything to-do with my soul but more of my flesh. He was exciting, mysterious. He was Clark and Superman. Two men only being differentiated by a pair of glasses and hidden strength.

He seemed to have a clue on how to get his revenge, but it was nothing but child's play. Surely this man was in his early days, awaiting his first crime. It was truly exciting to see my first in his facial expressions. Yet, there was something more sinister to him that I was willing to give him credit for.

"Charming." I mutter, leaning back into my seat, fighting my own excitement.

"So, what do you say?" Kyro waits with anticipation as I smirk.

"And what do I get in return for seducing this man and luring him out?" My question shows Kyro I wouldn't simply do this for free. Helping him commit a crime at night in this city wasn't easy. It was an evil place out there; these streets had the blood and ashes of thousands.

"Help me with my...issue and I'll help you with yours." Kyro said, causing me to scoff and nod, knowing very well that last part was a lie.

However, even if he wasn't willing to help me, he would unintentionally grant me a thrill. Even as we left the restaurant and walked to a bar across the street where the man, he spoke about patiently waited for Kyro, I took his place. And with great ease, had the man feeding from me as Kyro watched from a distance. This was truly wicked, exciting to know I'd have two men added to my list.

Because if there is one thing about the app LDE, is that love does end. Well, I'm sure the company had it for Love's Dead End, the final destination to find the one! Surely it did help me find the one for tonight, the one who for the first time in years reminded me that I was a lady. A lady who enjoys getting a nice diner, a handsome date, and a man who ignites a thrill from within. Kyro had potential, but why rob myself from some good old school fun? Perhaps I made him scream louder than he could ever make me cream.

I rarely feel confident in something, rarely have a clear focused vision of myself. I am at every point overthinking my every action and word. All because of a boy. A boy I once loved more than anything in the world, more than sleep, more than food, more than all the stars in the galaxy. A boy that took a lot of my firsts, although he didn't so much as take them as I gave them. A boy who had walked miles in the cold to meet me on my back porch and talk with me, flirt with me, hug me. The same boy who stayed on the phone with me while we slept at night. I find it very hard to believe that the same boy also ripped my heart into pieces like it was a 1000 piece puzzle, but here I am aren't I? The two pieces of that puzzle I'm having the most trouble fitting together? "You are the first person I have truly loved," and "I don't think I can ever really be in a relationship and be happy." Yeah I know, I can't be upset that someone does not want a relationship with me, and I'm not. What breaks my heart, is that you still chased me after this, still let me hope, flirted and charmed me like everything was normal. Then after that? You ghost me, leaving me high and dry. Repeated this a couple times and eventually I just gave up on you. And you let me, like I was never important enough to you for it to be a hardship on you. So these puzzle pieces don't fit, and all I wanna know now is: "Did you mean it?"

I have some things that I must say,

You may not like to hear.

A reckoning I knew would come,

A price to pay that's dear.

It may require an unraveling

Of what I thought was true.

A letting go of old beliefs,

A search for something new.

Tears will come and so much more,

It's not an easy road.

I must go deep to sort it out,

To release this heavy load.

Pardon me, if you don't mind,

Please let it be ok.

Just give me space to feel these things

To process my own way.

I may scream, or stomp about

Or say things i shouldn't say

But please know its the grief in me,

It won't always be this way.

This old stuff’s been stuck in me

I've tried hard to push it down

But I've hit the point of no return

The time to heal is now.

So as my friend I ask you please,

Try hard to understand.

Your goal is not to cheer me up,

Or steer me from this path.

Instead you are a light to me

A safe place along  the way

Listen when I need you to,

Let me say what I need to say.

People often say it's tough to move on, but it's not the person that's hard to leave behind; it's the memories we built together that cling like stubborn shadows. It's like trying to untangle a knot – the memories are the knots, and breaking free is the real puzzle.

Our minds, like a tricky maze, replay all the bad stuff – the fights, the selfishness, the loneliness. Yet, when it's time to let go, suddenly, it throws in images of love and care, making it feel like leaving is a mistake.

In my view, patience is the key here. Moving on isn't a walk in the park; it's more like waiting for a plant to grow. Just like they say, "If you really want something, the universe will make it happen." So, if it's meant to be, it will be.

Think of it as trusting a plan bigger than ours. Whether you believe in God or just the magic of life, sometimes things work out better than we could have planned.

When you can't see a way forward, consider it as standing in front of a closed door. It might not open now, but it will surprise you when it does. The future might seem scary, but doubting yourself is even scarier.

Have faith that good things are waiting for you ahead. Embrace the memories, learn from them, and believe that moving on is like turning the page in a book – the story continues, and the best chapters might still be unwritten.

There was a Knowing inside my heart my mind just could not bear.

So I took this Knowing from my mind and I shoved it down the stairs.

Into my body, this Knowing went, I couldn’t keep it near.

It must go down into some place where I couldn’t feel the fear.

I found a room inside myself that I thought would surely do,

I boxed it up and left it there, this Knowing and I were through.

I climbed the stairs away from there, with ever quickening steps.

Surely this would fix everything, the secret must be kept.

Time went on, I made a choice, determined to be free.

Do this, do that, keep moving now, keep trying to achieve.

It worked I guess, this plan of mine, I did some wonderful things.

But nothing calmed the edginess, the constant anxious sting.

The years passed by and I fought hard to manage everything.

And wondered at the anxiousness that quietly haunted me.

It seemed to grow, I’m not sure why, as life continued on.

The burden growing heavier, the feeling something was wrong.

The Knowing was the hidden piece, the dark root of all the pain.

The anxious feelings rising up from that place down deep within.

It was the Knowing that I needed, to uncover the old truth.

But how could I remember what I’d buried in my youth?

I stumbled on that room one day, while digging through some stuff

The door I’d closed long ago, when I was still so very young.

The steps were dark, the room was small, the box a lumpy thing.

But when I stepped onto that stair, it shifted everything.

I felt a click inside my bones, as truth came rushing back.

The Knowing that I'd pushed away; the darkness of my past.

Despair and joy they warred in me, how could I not have known?

This Knowing that had shaken me, that I wanted to disown.

I thought the Knowing would ruin me, shatter me to my core.

Instead the Knowing brought me life, it has opened so much more.

Yes, this pain is hard to bear, and grief goes very deep.

There are days I struggle through, when I can barely sleep.

But I found a truth I did not expect, waiting in that hell.

The secret behind the anxiousness and fear that I had felt.

It wasn’t just the Knowing there in the box from long ago

There was a piece of her as well, the little girl I was.

Part of her had huddled there, not knowing those times had passed.

The horrors that had hurt her so, they no longer had to last.

Together we are setting her free; we’ve burned the box to ash.

Only through the Knowing can we find freedom from the past.