Looking in the mirror, displeased with the reflection
and who the reflection was, I broke it.
Constantly rearranging the pieces and breaking it
again to start all over.
Why won’t this person vanish? Why won’t she change for good?
The glass gets sharper and sharper, cutting me to the very bone.
Completely surrounded by bloody, sharp shards of glass
I get on my knees and weep.
A gentle but strong Hand strokes mine and heals the cuts I endured.
It raises the shards and wipes off the blood and fixes the mirror
It reaches out for my hand, I hesitantly take it.
I stand and look in the mirror.
I now see a person who is even better than I wanted to be.