Mirror mirror on the wall,

Shatter to pieces as you fall.

Twisted frame and shattered glass,

Memories that shall never pass,

Glittering shards that litter the floor,

A figure staring from beyond the door.

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Shatter to pieces as you fall.

 

It’s been like this for some time now. The mirror has been standing all alone in a barren, concrete room for a good long while. It’s been shattered like this for a long time too, for as long as I dare to remember, in fact. The frame was once, a long time ago, a shining gold border, but it’s been tarnished for so long I can hardly remember the beauty it once held. There is so much glass on the floor that I can’t risk getting close enough to even place a finger to that frame.

 

I can’t risk adding more cracks to the glass.

 

How did the mirror even break in the first place? I’ve been asking myself that for years now. The strangest part is… I think that I’m the one that broke it in the first place, but I don’t know if that’s really the case. I can picture it clearly, throwing a hard punch at the glass which was so innocently reflecting my form back at me and watching it shatter.

 

Seeing through wide and angered eyes the glass falling to the dirty floor in shards around my bare feet. Watching the jagged pieces shoot into the walls around. There is no blood on my hand and no glass in my flesh but all around me it glitters, throwing an almost celebration sensation around the room.

 

I can’t risk shattering the glass anymore!

 

I cannot. I will not. The risk of damaging it beyond repair is far too great. I know this now from experience – though I wish I did not. These shards seem to mock me as I stand in the doorway that will only remain open while I am near. They glitter in the pitch black with lights all of their own in mockery of my vain attempts.

 

“You can see us! You can hear us! We call to you as never we have before! We know you want us, know you need us – for we hold the key to this mystery. We are what you long to remember and what you long to forget! Soon enough you will need us and so we now fill you with regret. Come and find us! Look into us! See into our sparkling depths. Learn your path and spill your droplets of the blood to pay our debt!”

 

Teasing mockery from glittering glass. The many shards imbedded in the walls refuse to come out when I pull. My blood stains the wall like they’ve been slicing my hands through all attempts to free these pieces of memory. Shards that lie flat on the floor simply refuse to move from their rest. A touch will reveal no more than simply staring into the depths, a blurred and cryptic part of picture.

 

To hear beyond imagery is a bonus yet.

 

I will admit the most disturbing angle is this; some memories are beyond me. Each and every shard and shingle glittering upon that floor is a shard of a memory. I long to remember, and I long to forget a part of my life that I regret beyond measure. Regret it I do, but I treasure my regrettable years as well. It is the shards that I have broken to splinters I cry for, memories I shall never get back.

 

Mirror mirror against my wall,

Shattered into shadow as I fall,

Glittering shards beneath a tarnished frame

Victim of my fists’ good aim

Memories mocking from reflecting depths

Memories lost to a blood paid debt

Mirror mirror against my wall

Shattered into shadow each time I fall.