fingers delicately press glass.
crack. break. slice.
i broke that image. i broke my reflection.
seven years. seven years. seven years.
bad luck is methodically spoken. always trying to ease the pain.
bleeding hearts gripped by dripping words of deceipt and hatred.

here is my broken mirror, shattered by kisses gone wrong.
here is my sad reflection, with your hand on the other side,
reaching to comfort me even when i turn it away.
i'm too strong. too headstrong for love and comfort.
i'm pushing away because i hate getting hurt.

i'm smiling at the cracks. i'm laughing at the imperfections.
i won't turn my back. i won't look away from this reflection.
here is my mirror, one side positive, one side sad.
one side pathetic, one side strong.
i never could stare at myself for too long