Separated Shards

Not being able to look at the mirror and see the same person standing there,

Trying to fix the cracks that are deeper than any crater,

Words you've spoken out in anger,

Tears of mascara becomes the lines that you've drawn around yourself and others,

Nothing but a stranger looking back at you with cold brown eye's,

Bloodshot tears, and separate shards of glass that split your reflection,

Glimpses of who you were cast looks upon you in judgement,

How could this happen?

A question that never really has a simple answer,

The bruises under your eye's are like patina,

A painful reminder of every sleepless night,

As you continue to look for yourself inside of the shards.