The Stranger in the Mirror

The Stranger in the Mirror

My reflection waited,

eyes sharp and focused,

watching me move

with perfect precision.

It blinked once early,

a moment before I did,

tilting its head slowly

with strange intent.

The smile came late,

crooked and cold,

curling at the edges

like it knew something.

I stepped back quickly,

but it stayed close,

its hands pressed softly

against the other side.

The glass chilled deeply,

cold enough to sting,

as though the mirror

was thinning.

My reflection whispered

without sound or breath,

lips shaping words

I didn’t recognise.

Its eyes brightened softly,

hungry and waiting,

tracking every breath

I didn’t mean to take.

And when I turned away,

its grin widened slowly,

as though it finally learned

how to live without me.