This is the first new poem I've written in a very long time, so I apologize if I'm rusty.
Mirror

The mirror throws back
verisimilitude
in its cold, clean gleam.

Eyes of an iced verdant green
stare deep,
a hollow ache revealing itself
through the shadows
of a gaze.

Phantasmagoric memory
haunts the orbs
that linger in reflection
on the glass.
(The image blurs
as her pain sharpens.)

And the mirror is an idle idol,
giving no respite
to the soul beneath the eyes.

Instead it is just an indifferent keeper,
watching silently
as her emerald vision
succumbs to chill.