My mirror speaks
You would guess that after so many years of the same things happening to you over and over again, that these things wouldn’t bother you as much. You would expect your pain and know the shards lying before you are the pieces left and are nothing more than the parts that are left behind. My life has been breaking apart for most of its entirety; a shard left here or there. Some shards left behind where they have stayed; sometimes I pick these shards up and glue them back to the whole but still separated by the destructive cracks they have been made. My reflections becoming more distorted as time passes. Jaded, maybe I am. Careful, I must be. Scared, I sit waiting for my new cracks. My newest shard takes shape. I see it almost clearly. It looks likes some distorted heart. It beckons to be glued. The cracks straining wanting to burst out, waiting to feel relief, and here I fight to keep the damage from exceeding it boundaries. If I let the pain spread too far like a spider web it could destroy the outer shell. I feel nowhere to go and no one to let it out to. I know that soon, I break.