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from Flash Fiction Collection by Jo Hawk

Copyright © 2019–2022 Jo Hawk

The Looking-Glass Self

I’m looking at you through the glass, terrified to try again.

You won’t accept easy answers, repeating I’d be a fool to expect a different future.

Life’s only promise is my broken heart will never mend.

No one tells you how quickly epidemics spread, cuts you down, becomes your home.

Evaporated dreams reflected inside my tortured head make me question: Was it ever real?


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