I wrote this poem a few years back while I was in college. It sprouted from an initial concept I had for an allegorical short story, but slowly moved from prose to verse. The first version of this poem had another stanza that ended on a more upbeat note where things turned around, but it felt out-of-place and insincere. I realized that not everything has to be tied up in a neat little bow. Because life certainly isn’t. Sometimes we have to ride out some storms to see the rainbows. It’s sometimes hard to accept, but I can be a mess, and am definitely a work-in-progress.

Sorry that this is all a bit of a downer; I’ll try to have something happier/more positive to post on Thursday!


A mirror is all I ever want,
a reflection of my face.
To write my life in ballpoint pen;
No guilt, no need to erase.

My eyes are glued to a face of glass
that bends in changing light.
I should instead look towards the sun
and blinded, receive sight.

I try and cast the mirror away;
It shatters in the dirt.
But I crawl back to claim the shards,
as if they could cure my hurt.

I clench my hand around the glass,
blood oozing from my skin.
Small broken pieces of my soul –
reflections of my sins.

I am enslaved by this old mirror,
this need to just see me.
Though a shard of glass may bring me pain,
I cling to it stubbornly.


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