fogs it up in gentle puffs.
in.
out.
i breathe, opening my eyes to the broken scene before me.
my hands linger over the smooth surface, poised.
for what, i'm not sure.
i have the sudden urge to press my hands into the faultless surface,
break it into a
thousand
tiny
rippling
rings.
it shows me what i can't stand to see,
the person i can't bear to look in the eyes.
in one swift motion, i shove the mirror to the floor.
it crashes
cracks
shatters
splinters.
but i don't care.
i can't see the brokenness anymore.
I am in love with those first four lines... And sadly I know there's a lot of truth in this, in the way many of us see ourselves.
ReplyDeleteHi, Sophia. I really like this poem, and its uniqueness. I thought the part where each word is a line by itself really brought out that part and emphasized it well. Good job with this!
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