Advice on my poem about break-up?

I remember her laugh.
A laugh that echoed through your soul, touching and warming every core within you.
I remember her passion.
A passion so beautiful that it stopped you in your tracks, admiring the fire within her.
I remember her eyes.
A beautiful shade of brown that shone with happiness, love and the windows to her soul.
I remember her stubbornness.
A will so strong that she would never crack, maybe she was wrong at times but it was a piece of her I loved.
I remember her kindness.
A kindness so gentle and warm that you instantly fell in love with.
I remember her.

I remember the girl who once stood before me in the mirror.
She was no longer present.

Her laugh was now rarely heard.
It no longer echoed through your soul, it now broke your heart.
Her passion had died.
No longer were the days she loved anything, it was now cold nothingness.
Her eyes were no longer bright and alive.
Instead the windows showed us the dull, dark emptiness inside of her.
Her stubbornness subsided.
Gone were the days she felt any fire for anything.
Her kindness was diminished.
The once warm being she was had now turned to ice.
I no longer recognised the woman before me.

I was no longer myself.
My soul was cold, my life empty, no longer feeling.
I had been robbed.
Robbed of myself.
And he was responsible.
Advice on my poem about break-up?
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