Poetry From A Broken Mind

My Reflection

When I get up in the morning

My daily routine ensues;

Get up, go to the bathroom, get dressed.

I dred getting dressed.

Getting dressed is a time

When I have to check to make sure

I don't look wrong;

But there's just one problem.

How can you tell if you look okay

When you don't know the girl

That is staring back at you,

When you don't know your own reflection?

The girl I see in my reflection

Is a girl I've never seen before;

But have known all my life,

Like a stranger that's strangely familiar.

My reflection is someone I've seen

When I look in the mirror many times;

Getting dressed, brushing my teeth,

Washing my face and doing my hair.

I've seen her everyday

For as long as I can remember;

Watching her change as I change,

And grow as I grow.

She has a skeletal body,

Debris in hair and dead eyes;

The light in them lost

Because of society.

Looking into her eyes is like

Looking at the aftermath of a storm;

As if her eyes are a ravaged land

And I am looking at the destruction.

Her soul is tired,

Weary from wandering;

Her heart is worn

Feeling, giving too much.

Her lips are chapped,

Damaged from wind;

It's brutality not courteous enough

To spare her its abuse.

She is pale as porcelain,

A deathy color;

But fragile is the last thing

To use to describe her.

Her clothes are torn

Muddy and grimy;

From a battle that

Cost her everything.

Tears brim over,

Staining her cheeks;

Her fists clenched,

Matted hair hiding her face.

Along her forearms you can find

Many scars, bruises, and gashes;

Her numerous battle wounds

Showing the many fights with the devil.

Her neck is bruised,

Her cheeks cut;

Has she ever known more

Than pain and sorrow?

As if to answer my question,

She shakes her head 'no';

Making my heart ache

And soul yearning to help.

Again as if reading my mind,

She gave me a watery smile;

To assure me that

She's fine...for now.

But I don't believe that smile at all,

As I've given it before;

To make others feel at ease

And restore comfort.

It's taken a toll on me,

Making sure others are okay;

The cost was something

More precious than gold.

It cost me my sanity,

But I play it off well;

A smile here, 'I'm fine' there,

No one sees my struggle.

I wear masks,

To keep my business mine;

I've yet to meet someone

Who can see my façade.

So you see,

I don't know this girl;

Where or when or

Even how she came.

I've never met anyone who carried

A torn, tattered comforter,

As if they had a very

Cherished shawl or robe before.

But I do know her

She's haunted my mirrors;

More times than I can count,

She's been there my whole life.

She is a part of me,

A part of a whole;

Another physical interpretation of me,

She is my reflection.