The Mirror

Once upon a time

I looked into the mirror

and saw a chubby face:

the image clenched its claws

around my throat,

promised vengeance on a heart

that had been hurt before

but never that bad–

never by itself.

 

It turns out pain is addictive

when you place it all in one hand,

one cheek,

one thought can turn

your entire life around a curb

I flew until I reached the spot

where my heart burst,

when I heard a bird inside of me,

“I want nothing more

than to beat my wings and fly,”

but my breath wouldn’t let it–

and so it perched inside instead.

 

I suppose any story

can be flipped to mirror

another, to flip my eye

on its head, turns out

its not the first time

since life, after all,

is all about change,

when any mirror I see

is the one turned

upon myself,

over and over

different shades of gray

not found in a book,

but chosen, inconspicuously,

one at a time

by the owner of the mirror,

by the one that aligns

my waken breath.

 

December 21, 2014

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4 thoughts on “The Mirror

    • Thank you! That’s a really great way of looking at it…often what I write just kind of “comes out,” and it’s great when a type of structure comes out of that, too haha. I appreciate the comment!

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