True me? Who, me?

True me? Who, me?

I'm just Sydney

I am nobody to you

I'm just a woman

I'm just a student

I'm just an artist

What am I to you? 

I'm a stranger

I'm the can of soup stuck in your aisle of bread

I don't belong here

And yet here I am

The true me? 

I'm more than a woman, student and artist

I'm more than a can of soup

I'm a broken mirror

Let your beauty reflect off me

Into ugliness

A mirror that instead of learning to love itself

Made its living reflecting hate and sorrow

It disfigured everything it saw

It pushed the new image out

To echo the bitterness it held inside it's splintered soul

It will cut you if you come too close

A broken mirror is unlovable

A broken mirror is useless

A broken mirror is a waste of time

I may be broken but I am not beyond repair! 

You may have shattered me

But I can only come back stronger

You turned my soul to shards

But you did not crack my spirit

You were the fist that left me broken

But you took away a bloodied stump

A broken mirror can still defend itself, after all

With its razorous spines

Yes, a broken mirror is quite powerful

I can dig myself into you

I could keep you imprisoned within me forever

But I will let you go

You are the useless one

You do not define me

I may be in pieces but these pieces are the ones to define me

These pieces do not weaken me

A broken mirror is not doomed to only destroy

I can create beauty

I am unique as the cracks in the mirror of your own design

What will I see when I look into your mirror?

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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