I see faces that stare into mirrors everyday, as they die,
I lunge those souls that breathed their last,
of surprise and thoughtfulness on to my shoulders,
and carry them to my abode of sleep.
But this one, I did not.
This one, stared at the mirror as she felt the monsters lurk behind her.
She looked at her face and smiled as though,
the monsters were going to gift her.
The monsters stabbed her with pleasure.
But she smiled on at the mirror.
I picked her cold body off of her blood,
and cried out “Why?”
“These monsters saved me from angels,
that would set me on fire,
And watch me shed my last drop of blood.”
-Shashvathi S Hariharan