My Own Broken Mirror

It’s my perfect distortion
My face mirrored, and split by emotion
Toyed with and tainted as I move
From one to another, I fit to the grooves

Of the loose ends of sharpness that gather to unite
To be perfectly fitted
And renewed to the mirrored spite
Unnoticeably broken
But brittle and rough
Stand from afar, and admire the muffs

Help with the pane
Move to uncertainty
Lure the cheery light
And cure my fearful fright.

It’s my perfect distortion
That I recognize so well
But help me see
What the others see but tell.
Are the pieces lost?
Slipped through the cracks?
Fallen through to the dangerous high acts?
I’ll never know of my pieces that are missing.
Mold the old to fit the space
Kiss the glass, even of bad taste

Forever, but never made
To be new
Just molded and distorted
To create a familiar you

Of mirrored light, broken,
But Forever Bright.
Please stay with the brittle pane
Until the sun goes down
And pain fades
And new lights of distorted beauty
Reign again