Shattered Mirrors

What do you do when she says I got drunk last night? What do you do when she laughs about it? What do you do when you see her falling? What do you do when she refuses your help? Picking up the pieces of a shattered mirror is harder than carefully framing it and placing it gently on the wall. Understanding the beauty you see in a full mirror instead of a broken one sets me in front of the pack yet so far behind. Missing a few pieces of my mirror I struggle to repair it wanting to look as whole as I can to others. Yet, the ones that matter the most pass me pieces and glue and say don’t worry you’ll get it. I wish she would see that mirrors shatter they don’t just break. Fixing it later isn’t always as easy as It may seem. How do I tell her? How do I show her? My mirror is shattered and glued shattered and glued how many times can one mirror break and be mendable? It tears my heart to see others purposly drop thiers to see it shatter just like mine. Then to see them surprised at what happens. Don’t they know that no matter how you drop, it even softly it will break? I want to catch them before they fall. Before it’s too late, to fix what cannot be fixed. Patch holes that cannot be patched. Dry tears that cannot be dried.