Now that I have these broken glass tears
Now that I have shattered pieces of my own heart
What do I do?
Do I wait for the time to repair the mirror,
stitch my heart?
Or do I cling to the broken memories,
like a leech
a parasite
eventually infecting myself with the longing?
What do you see in a broken mirror?
The one that cries tears of glass
and inflicts pain,
The one that can never be put together again
a heart, shattered beyond repair.
What do you see in a broken heart?
The one that cries tears of blood
and beats hard,
knowing it will stay soulless forever.
What do you see in my broken soul?
The one that cries tears of darkness
pouring forth from the shadows,
engulfing me in a fire of darkness.
What do you see in the fire that darkens,
does not light or provide heat,
only sucks in the weak and makes me ache.
When i stare into those flames I find my broken mirror,
shedding small glass tears,
and I cry to know that I have begun to end.
