The Broken Man
I stand naked before the mirror
It is pristine and shows a tall blue-eyed man
Starring back at me
But that is not what I see
I see each wrinkle, each spot, every imperfection
A person can have
The more I gaze into the very soul of this reflection
The more a question what is returning that gaze
This is not me
This is not what I see.
I am not perfection at all
It is then that
I feel as if I have just left my body
I am standing next to it
I reach for the nearest object
With every emotion
With the strength of every person who ever cut me
I fling the object at this clean sheet of painted glass
While the mirror is a mere 2 feet in front of me
It takes a lifetime for the object and the glass to intersect
The moment the two cross paths it is has if my very soul
Has leaped out and imbedded itself in the very cracks and crevices
That I see spiderweb through out the seven years of bad luck I just created
Now there it is, there is the true reflection I should be seeing
A broken man
Just like this glass and silver painted object was once immaculate
It now stands shattered
Just like me
This mirror now shows my very being
Starting with the impact point and reaching out
My deepest scars are hidden there
Deep in the millions of shards
Compacted to a point that they have the density of a black hole
I continue to allow my eyes to wander outward
See how the cracks move in jagged direction
Just like the moments of my life
There seams to be no rhyme
No reason
No purpose
And they don’t stop the just continue on
As if to say you will always be this broken
It is at that very second I tilt my head and close my eyes
In the darkness I start to think what am I really looking at
Slowly I allow my eye lids to start to creep open
With each almost agonizing millimeter
I start to see it
I see wonder
I see beauty
I see strength
I think what has changed
I remember
Yes I remember that a Ferrari, a Cash, an Uncle and a Fur Hat
Entered my closed walls and embraced me
they allowed me to accept love and support
Love and support that was always there but I was to blind to see
And to stubborn to accept
The more I search for the beauty in what seams like a useless piece of trash
I see S S A T T
I see acceptance and caring
I see Pommers, and Bubbers and the glue that held us all together
Even as I was ripping us apart
I see the pain and heart ache that has followed me since time began
But I also see all of the good that I could become
I see the mended fences not the burnt bridges
I know the force that was caused by the collision
This mirror should not be held together at all
The pieces should be scatter about the floor
I am puzzled at how this fragile thing could still have all of its pieces
But as I stare it starts to appear
A small white label directly over the impact site
Then the words start to come into to focus
As if magic contacts just jumped into my eyes
I have to blink away the tears as I read it again and again
“Held together with the glue of love
from every member of your family
from every friend
from every enemy
from every person you ever made eye contact with
from the spirts from within and without
and from the very soul you feel is broken”
and bang just like that I am back
the mirror is whole
the reflection is pure
and my smile is bright
I know I am loved
I know I am respected
And I know I have self-worth
I know that it is okay to not be okay
I know that this man
This broken man
Is not so broken after all.
