that hurts

In the mirror, she sees shadows, a stranger among familiar lines, each glance a whisper of disappointment, doubt etched in her skin. She wears her silence like a shroud, dreams slipping through fingers, words unspoken, a heart heavy with the weight of unseen scars. Yet in the twilight, a flicker of hope dances, reminding her of a girl, soft and fragile, waiting to be felt, waiting to be free.