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Girl In My Mirror, Reflections In The Rain (Frances Told Me)
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Dark Poetry Met a girl—she said, take me.
I have to get out of this place.
She was standing, somber, below the raging storm and the winds lifted her up.
I pray they will carry me, she said as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the heavens.
Away, she whispered, take me away.
And the rain fell on around her, masking tears she could not cry.
She screamed up to the darkness of the black that stole the sky.
And she let the rain fall down upon her, let the tempest stitch her eyes.
Asked the rain to substitute the pain she would not show.
Met myself in the mirror—she said, take me.
My eyes are haunted in the reflection.
I was waiting, silent, beneath the open horizon and the winds spun violently—lift me up or knock me down.
Give me reason to be cold, she said as I closed my eyes and she entertained the false hope that the rain would wash away the failure.
Wash the dirt from my face, nothing more as she stood under the atmosphere and let the rain consume me.
Drown, she whispered, take me away.
And the rain fell on around her, gracing tears upon her eyes.
She ripped in through the darkness of the black that stole her cries.
And she let the rain fall down upon her, let the wind stitch her eyes closed.
Prayed the storm would blind her to the sorrow that she knows.
Met a girl—she said, take me.
I need to escape from this space.
I was screaming, pleading, below the open sky while she seeped in through the mirror.
No one heard the weak lament as I bled into the winds and they carried her body away.
And the rain fell on around her, flooding truth unto the knife.
She cried out to the darkness of the black that stole her life.
And she let the rain fall down upon her, let the tempest stitch her pride.
Begged the rain to substitute the girl that they destroyed.
Away, she whispered, take me away.
