Not Yours

I glance at the cracked reflection of

the girl in the glass.

Her eyes are brimming with pain

She winces at the bruises

and the marks of his fingers

the scratches and the scars

where he pressed his mark

claiming what was hers

as his own.

She has seen pain that no others have.

The grim reaper called

But told her

He lifted you up into my arms

But I refused to accept his gift

You have too much to live for.

I stare at this girl

But I don’t see myself

I see a corpse

staring back into my eyes

There,

She’s gone.