Digital publication | Page 15

broken mirror   

{Eden L.}

 

I am her mirror.  

I think she is breathtaking,  

lovely, alluring.  

She screams that I am blind.  

  

I show her  

that she is already beautiful.  

Her compassion   

and brilliance.  

She refuses to listen.  

  

She hurls her comb at me.  

  

What did I do wrong?  

  

She tries picking up

the remains 

scattered across the floor.  

The sharp edges

puncture her skin,  

imprinting an image. 

Naivete, 

lost to society's standards. 

Her skin breaks.  

But she doesn’t care.  

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Beauty is a broken mirror.

I don’t remember the last time

she looked into me 

and asked herself   

who she was.  

  

Coarse edges scar her body 

They create jagged slits

across a canvas  

that was already flawless.  

  

The shards twist her

ravishing reflection  

into a distorted image.  

A mutilated horde of  

Paper white skin.  

Puckered lips.  

And an hourglass body.  

Her disfigured reflection

stares back  

from fragments of

the broken mirror.  

  

False images.  

But she aches for them to be true.