Once a mirror, now broken glass

January 19, 2011
Once a mirror, now just broken glass, I stay here, everyday, living the same still life. I do my job, and the only reflection I can see, is the people looking in and walking past me. I’ve never seen my own face, and I’ve never been moved, but I live in a place where words are weapons and knives are thrown. The place where I live has a few living there, I don’t know there names since I cant hear. But I have eyes, I'm all eyes actually, and I see the way he looks at her. That’s why, I cannot see, why he hits her, and kicks her, and reeks of gin, the home I live in is a wreck full of hate and sin. She loves him, I know, and she cares so much about him, but when he hits her she seems so scared, as if he’s a different person, tripolar or something I don’t know. But all I can say is, he really needs to go. She bleeds so much and doesn’t show up for work, she just stares in me all day, crying, soaked in alcohol and tears, slowly killing herself. I remember one night, it was exceptionally bad, the man came home, and was screaming mad. He came at her with a bat, hit her, threw her, and punched her again and again, he didn’t know how close he was to killing her but there it happened she died on the floor, no blood left inside her head, she was gone, dead… he looked down, rage melting away, realizing what he had done, he fell to his knees and began to cry, moments later he stood up came to me and cried more looking at himself and hating himself so much. His rage flooded back, not at her at himself. The man that he’d become was a nightmare, and he took the bat and smashed me down, cracking me and his reflection, I was destroyed, he was long before that, and this story ends with broken glass…

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback