Alone With a Ghost

Sometimes,
It's just me and my reflection,
We sit and talk
Just the two of us..
Me with blood pumping in every vein
A heart that beats..
Her, with no life in her
Yet,
She sits across from me
I'm always the first to speak
She mimics what I have to say
I'm not sure if it's in agreement
Or
Because she has no choice..
After all,
She wouldn't exist
If it weren't for me...
She is devoid of emotion
She feels nothing..
Until I cry
When I cry
I think she is sincere
As she joins me in my mourning.

poem by Rabia Minhas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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