Pieces

That glued up mirror
on the wall opposite
reflects me in pieces

I remember gathering pieces of her
striving hard to fit the jigsaw back together
cutting myself on sharp shards of her

It isn’t that I’m letting it stay
on some sentiment
To find a mirror that fits the place
it adorns, is no small task

Oh! how I loved this mirror
so simple that holder
and so thin a frame, as if
the reflector within could
jump out and leave sans effort

But with people who hold us
so tenderly, who never force a stay,
It’s the hardest to leave!… and so it stood in one piece
on the wall opposite,
my ever-faithful mirror.

Oh! I have no idea who broke my mirror
or did it break on its own?
There’s as much you can hold in
till it all bursts out one fine day.

There’s peace though, in seeing her
back in place,
whole again; yet there are holes,
empty spaces.
Tiny specks the ‘fixers’ swept away.
Did they think those micropieces were unimportant?
or were those so broken, lost,
as to go unnoticed as specks of dust?

Yes, she reflects me in pieces, I see
The lines dividing me, the hollow
Spaces, the cracks running through.
In fact, I need a gallon of glue.

Been in need for a very long time
though the lies my reflected whole
projected, to “protect” me
never let enough light in to reflect.

Now, my broken mirror told stories
only the wisdom of pain can teach
Once you have known pain and healed
Your scars can no longer lie.

© mar:ter