looking glass

glasses remind me of you

clear and crisp with all its smooth edges

but you weren't glass - were you?

and that was my mistake.

you were glass, sharp and cutting and vitriolic

you were every caustic word out of your mouth

and you were every missing shard, sliver, fragment.

you were a dull mirror, cloudy and hazy and fogged

you were a mirror but you were not; broken but not quite so

a silver that shined bright but never bright enough

it doesn't take much to throw away an in-between

breaking a mirror on the verge of being broken

a razor-sharp tongue and a flick of the wrist

you were fragments.

i hate you, every fragment and piece of you

every tiny sliver of glass that was you

i hate every chip, shard and i hate

that i keep on building you back

keep on gluing all your fragments together

even when i know you are nothing,

nothing but fragments of another broken mirror