Saturday, 27 July 2013

The Mirror

The Mirror

You come to me (said she), on your not-so-good days
Blotchy eyed and broken 
I try, to balm those bruises, to contain those tears, to
Talk you into brushing that mop of hair and taking
A shower.
But you despise every inch of me, don't you,
You petulant, stupid child? You raise your hand to push me
Away and I feel my heart shatter; the shards fold inwards,
dwindle away, seeping despair, you will have none of me.

On more rewarding days you stand, hands on your you hips;
Flash me one of your rare smiles. I have no memory of your
Brutality. You flaunt your new clothes and we giggle in unison.
You will never acknowledge that I am more than a mere echo.

Your secrets,safe, in my crystalline, faithful depths, lie buried
So deep, so transient that they are forgotten. Come by
Whenever you need me, you always have(here she paused).

I will show you what you want to see.

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