The Other Side

I search the mirror
but I am no longer there,
my reflection has gone.
Perhaps she has rematerialised in another time?
Found a haven in a less painful dimension
where veins no longer burn
with pink-red poison.
Somewhere beyond the morphine haze
where the sun gently soothes
the gnawing in her bones.
Her face is framed with brows and lashes
and she proudly bears the scars
of her reconstructed chest.
Maybe one day I will meet her,
this echo of mine
and I will tell her how proud I am,
that she made it, to the other side.