Mirrored shards glinting in candlelight, all sharp edges and dripping blood. The crack of glass shattered and screams ring - the voice, alien, echoing through labyrinthine corridors, until I find its source and see my reflection. Crimson stains its edges, stone grasped in desperate fingers
It is twisted, its many facets staring back through the splintered surface with mouth agape and wordless cries drown out little thoughts in a symphony of pain that cannot be released. Each image distorted, a shade different - the many faces of Self pleading to be One but held by chains of fear and something else. They will not name it.
Black shadow fills the back, blotting out tiny glimmers - chasing them away like rabbits flee the wolf, leaving just its shaggy fur blanketing any escape. Its howls douse hope, jaws just inches from the neck and yet still we stare at divided Self
Who are we to think ourselves worthy of wholeness? Us, with hands stained red, our youth torn and past bloodied from unkind hearts? Did we not learn, but instead carve a cage to stop the bleeding?
They were cruel, but are we not crueller still?
Fractured Mirror stands infront, and we see the centre - the child forced to grow, bones broken and skin tight. Tears leave marks, the same pathways taken for years and years. They look up, and all we see is fear.
I am sorry, for they are all gone - and only I keep striking.
I am sorry, for the bruises I have caused
I am sorry, for the blood I have spilled.
I am sorry, for not being kinder.