Reflections in a Broken Mirror

25 Oct

I stand here, on the cold bathroom floor

Staring at a broken face in a broken mirror

My face was incomplete, grey areas in place of skin

A broken mirror; a crack running from temple to toe to tongue

The sides faded and fast vanishing

Made by an artist run out of paint or interest

My left eye missing and nothing there

In half shock and half amusement

I brought my hands up to my face

My pal was hollowed out

I went to touch the mirror

Warm fingers touching cold glass.

It all came crashing down

I had vanished

Nothing more than glass shards strewn on the floor.

The broken mirror reflected a complete truth

An unfinished being sent too soon.

A masterpiece not quite ready to face the world

Just a heap of trash on the cold bathroom floor.


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