We gaze into our mirrors, wondering who we see,
Never really knowing, with all the pieces who we’ll be,
We see a clear reflection, yet the image seems incomplete,
As memories blur the edges, with those scars we can’t defeat.
The mirror can not see the pain, or those tears already cried,
It only sees the image, not the person hiding inside,
Our eyes look at the person, but is that really who they are,
Is the image pinned together, with the past’s unfortunate scars.
Each face holds lines or wrinkles, a map to where we’ve been,
The destination already known, but where’d the trip begin,
A map to our future, or a road stretching from the past,
From the person that once was whole, or to the pieces that still last.
We survive with pieces missing, or are they lost somewhere inside,
As we somehow become adept, at ignoring emotions denied,
An event might have profound effect, yet where do the pieces go,
When they’re severed from a heart, and we pretend it doesn’t show.
Do our minds whisper to us, though something’s missing we’ll be fine, Even if someone took a part, and this soul’s no longer mine,
If we add up all the pieces gone, does the person still survive,
While we spend our time waiting, convinced we’re still alive.
Is a person just the sum total, of the pieces they still possess,
Or are the pieces measured in heartbeats, that thing beating in our chests,
Can the pieces be reassembled, without an assisting hand,
Or are so many pieces gone, that the heart can’t understand.
The person that the world can see, may seem glued together and pasted,
With the heart’s that beating in the chest, feeling each heartbeat’s wasted,
The evidence lies inside the eyes, can we see past the color blue,
Are the hopes and dreams alive, and why do they all hold you.
The person in this mirror, is missing a vital part,
He no longer owns his soul, or the pieces of heart,
The person surely wants to live, is it possible with so much gone,
And as the heart builds it’s walls, what pieces will come along.
January 29th, 2017