Past, present... and her future?

She stands, silent, watching,
there's a face staring back,
she looks away.
The eyes are dead, the smile frozen on the lips,
the mouth that would never stop prattling is now dry,
thoughts lost in the melee,
there's no laughter, no mirth.
She thinks of the past,
what he did to her.
Walked all over and then left her.
She thought he was the future, but it turned out wrong,
like it often does,
as the past danced away,
gliding away into the night,
after use and abuse,
two years of silence when she retreated into her shell,
when she finally learnt silence speaks more than a thousand words.
She went back, decided to keep trying,
but all her efforts went unheeded,
all her cries unheard,
all her sobs unformed, straining her throat.
She wanted the past, it was not to be.
Then she gave up, looking to her present, who had always been there.
She caught up with him, had laughter and happiness,
but it was not to last either.
Just when she got life back and started to smile,
just when she began to dream of the present as her future,
the stars collided again and she was sent reeling back into her past,
into a world of indifference and indignity,
of pain and hurt,
of patience and silence,
until he turned the clock back,
her future back into the past.
And she still stands there, gazing,
it's the mirror on the wall,
and she can see herself looking out of the eternal void --- hurt, pained, and wary of any future again.