By: Brenli

I sigh and break another mirror because my God told me to.

Only I know how much it meant to me.

My God took what I thought was hard work

A lifetime of shifting and changing, of crying and screaming

My God says it’s wrong.

Take everything I weighed upon and call it bad.

But I love my God.

So I drop my mirror. Watch it shatter.

But it doesn’t break. So watch me kill it.

The thoughts that run through my head,

How long has it been since I last killed me?

Too long to remember, too many other mirrors gone by before it to really care.

I want to die.

I don’t want to stop breathing.

Is it dead yet? As dead as this mirror should be, but it still breathes.

I throw it into its final bed, and my eyes cloud over.

The heavy coffin lid is close to closed, dropped over my mirror.

I really thought you were me.

But you were something already dead.

I drop the lid and dust rises.

Did I really need to die that long ago?

So who am I now, then? My mirror is as dead as I can make it.

The melancholy gray of my mirror’s final bed.

It’s different.

Its name… is my name, because I really thought she was me.

And its death date doesn’t exist yet, because I can’t be nothing without dying.

How many mirrors did I destroy?

How many names and personas did I throw away?

I turn and leave because my work is done

And another bed is added to so many more.

If I cry it’s only the tears of a mirror wanting to wake up,

And if I scream it’s just the nothingness going through me with each breath.