Lonely Insanity
By Debbie Chueh

She never told me she was sorry
My mirror image, my other half,
My own flesh and blood
All immortalized in the varnish of a cold glass

For all the nights she was next to me
She would never comfort me, or hold me
And we both knew
She could never save me.

I was always
trying to reach out to her
But all I got was a cold spirit, a stranger,
Someone who taunted my movements
And when I looked up at her
I saw no sympathy, no tenderness,
Only the silvery pearls of tears
From the buildup of pain, of sorrow.
And all these years
She never told me
She was sorry.