When I look into the mirror my reflection is unseen like the little girl who disappeared into the dirt and somehow her nervous hands became uncleaned my reflection my reflection why can't it be seen is it because of the meddling children who accidently set off the kerosene, my reflection feels like a burden holding me close as the mirror I stand upon feels like it have to boast, visibility is to be seen as invisibility is not to be seen, the mirror is known to be dangerous and some what mean , my apprehension for the mirror grows stronger as I would hope my reflection would be shown and appear a little while longer, my anger, my thrive as I step my unknown reflection close up to the mirror it now knows I have arrived, I look into the mirror as it looks at me, it stares at me like I have nothing to see, my hands clench up and my adrenaline runs, the mirror that denies me is now gone and broken, I pick up a piece of the shattered glass and I realize now I can see my invisible reflection, I thought to myself when I looked into the ubroken mirror my reflection is unseen but now that mirror is broken my reflection is known to be seen, the little girl who's hands were unclean and invisible is now like me because we are both free and clean and now we are beginning to be seen, my reflection.