A Writer's Collection

Mirror

Standing in front of the mirror. I see me.

But not entirely me.

A different me.

Someone who looks lost, broken and rather burdened.

I am not normal anymore.

You can say I lost my mind. If you can see it, that is.

It stares back at me. The one in a facade.

I see my smile, not my frown.

I see a polished face, then a drenched one.

Its all a lie. But no matter how much I could change it.

It never goes away.

Do you think I'm crazy? Do you think I'm fake? Do you think all I've done is to bitch myself?

Well, its alright. I hear you.

It was crystal clear. No need to make an excuse. I don't need to hear you try to wipe your prints away.

I don't need to explain myself to you either. There's no point. You don't care.

Even if you say you do, your actions were proven otherwise.

Do me a favor and stop giving me empty promises. Stop giving me hope. Stop giving me a reason to be led on, be tricked and let history repeat itself all over again.

I am not a tool. Nor am I a toy.

I'm trying to get back up for the sake of those few. Key word: Trying.

Oooh but those voices never cease. I can't wait to disappear. I can't wait to be somewhere where no one else is.

Let's see if you would even regret what you did. Let's see if you even truly care for me.

Let's see your true colors.

You shattered me. Like a broken mirror. You see nothing but cracks and holes.

Paste it together you say? That is possible. But it will never be the same again.

I have two options. To end it or to move it.

Oh how tempting it is to end it.

But the irony is, the guts were never there.

Oh wait, I could end it. Ah yes, I can.

With one more look, I stare at my mirror. And for the first time, the smile reached my eyes.

"This is goodbye..."