Young Writers Society

Mirrors

I think that
The bathroom glass
With its polished metal
Its flawless surface
Its unblemished face

Is broken

Until the cracks appear
Radiating outward like a spider's web
Fragmenting the world into millions of pieces
And only when the mirror breaks
Do I see

Me.

My many eyes, watching the shattered Earth around me
My split mouth, forming sounds but no words
My fragmented ears, listening
Hearing
Never acting
Because my limbs are broken, too
Like those of a porcelain doll
Useless
And waiting to be thrown away.

Words

My tongue is the motor
Spinning the enamel plate of the pottery wheel
Against my lips--
The hands
That form the clay.

It can become anything
A gift
A hammer
A spear that pierces someone's heart.

Be careful with that pottery wheel
Because sometimes
The only thing between life and death

Is you.

I really love your poetry ari and I would love to see you work with the last one