Mirror
Knowledge
Because it's not supposed to work this way, a mirror.
Not supposed to show you who you love, staring into your eyes (that accursed addicting color on him, horribly lost on you).
It's supposed to show your black hair, that burst blood vessel under your left eye from when you were tiny.
Not brown-blonde hair, perfect skin, glasses.
Mirrors can't know that he is, in fact, part of you.
But this one knows.
This one, of this house of mirrors.
It knows.
Not supposed to show you who you love, staring into your eyes (that accursed addicting color on him, horribly lost on you).
It's supposed to show your black hair, that burst blood vessel under your left eye from when you were tiny.
Not brown-blonde hair, perfect skin, glasses.
Mirrors can't know that he is, in fact, part of you.
But this one knows.
This one, of this house of mirrors.
It knows.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm working on a few more short little chapters. Feedback helps, y'all.