Broken Mirrors and Bad Reflections


Elisha Langevin, Senior Editor

As a child I didn’t fear the monsters under my bed

I feared the monsters inside my head.

I still fear my own mind.

It bothers me all of the time.

Fire alarm running out of batteries

Slowly draining me.

I fear my thoughts.

I don’t trust my head.

Fills my body with dread.

The mirror I look into breaks.

My mind aches.

I can’t comprehend who I am,

Just as mirrors can’t comprehend.

A mirror can’t bend and break

Like a person can.

It shatters from pressure

Like a human mind.

I still fear my own mind.

It makes itself known from time to time.

I can’t run and hide from this monster.

I see reflections of a person from my past.

I used to know them, but I lost touch.

The person is me, I’m lost.

I am wandering aimlessly.

I feel empty.

I feared robots as a child too,

Guess I didn’t see I would become one too.

What is this mess?

Why am I like this?

No control.

What is wrong?

I can’t do this again.

My mind told me I couldn’t

It was feigned.

Lost in the maze of my mind.

Have to find my way.

To keep this beast at bay.

Can’t take this.

I’m breaking,

The reflection I saw in the mirror was me.

Empty, broken, and lonely.

If only.

I can’t take this.

I crawl out of the cracks of the broken mirror.

Leaving the empty shell of a person.

Picking up the broken glass,

To piece together what once was.

To lift the mass of my monster

Off my shoulders.

I broke and shattered because of those boulders.

I had forgotten what air felt like.

I forgot what it was like to bear my mind.

It had never been kind.

A new kind of sobriety.

One free of anxiety.