Girl in a Glass Box

There is a girl i often see,
she lives in a glass box.
Her mind confused, trying to fight feelings that she was a mistake by God.
She has no one to talk to.
No one is there.
She wonders why shes a gift with no purpose.
A priceless one-of-a-kind piece thats worthless,
Grounded with no surface.
I often watch her, trying to understand.
I see her confusion & self deception, her questions of relevance & intelligence.
She holds illusions of self-acceptance.
There she is day after day, eyes flooded with pain & sorrow.
She cant take it any longer.
She holds up the knife and tares into the one thing she used to hold dear.
As the crimson heartache floods out, i do nothing to stop her.
I just stand there.
Time slows down until it stops all together.
Her tears stop in mid-air, blood stops flowing, sudden chills, & she cant feel anything.
no pain...no fear...
just cold.
And for that mere moment,
shes happy.
Reality kicks in.
My eyes close as i silently fall to the ground.
The girl in the glass box,
was only my reflection.