Dear Reflection

I’m on a train and I’m watching out the window, the freeways and the underpass by Highland Park. We stop for a minute and I see my face looking back at me in the reflection of the window except I don’t recognize myself because I look so old. And I look so tired. And I’m not eight years old anymore and that makes me sad. I don’t know her and I don’t know that I want to.

 

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