Where My Mirror Used To Be

It used to be a portrait
Of self-assuring smiles,
Upon a wall of ivory,
Above a floor of tiles,
Beneath a speckled ceiling,
And opposite from me,
There is an empty surface
Where my mirror used to be.

It used to crown my features with
The shimmer of its glass,
The framing and the depth it gave,
The light it used to cast,
The way it never failed to show
The face I couldn't see.
And now my face is just as bare
As where my mirror used to be.

And now upon the tile floor,
The shattered shards of glass,
The fragments of reflected light,
Reflect themselves at last,
As I glance up at emptiness,
Expecting to see me,
But there are only shadows where
My mirror used to be.