The mirror spat back at her like the depth of the ocean

It waved dark greenish-blues with foams and bubbles

And she thought it was the waves but it wasn't

It was the rolls of skin on her face that the years had summoned.

Each wrinkle had its story

And every scar seemed like another life;

But three stood out that made her cry, smile and wonder

One about the man who stole her innocence:

She never knew he did until he was gone.

Another about the only man she ever loved:

She never knew she did until he was gone.

The last about the only man that would accept her:

She still doesn't know.