Broken Mirrors

A Rejection Letter

I see you. I see what you are And what you aren’t.

What can they say? What can they say to you you haven’t said to yourself?

What can they do? You haven’t done to yourself?

You say you want to fit in? But you are two spirits in one body

Constantly at war At torment

You get off on tearing yourself apart.

So, what can they say?

You aren’t good enough?

You don’t have enough?

You will never be enough?

Those are the mantras on the post-its of your mirror.

What if you broke that mirror today?

What if every mantra shattered the broken record in your head?

What if everything changed? Flipped upside down?

You are on the other side of the casting table? Or there is no table at all. No place of Meeting, No space to fit in. No space to fit out. It is just you and the world you create?

The judgments receive decease. They desist.

The handcuffs nail themselves to the precinct operators. The colors of paint are the smattering on the walls that produce Murals With futures bright. For the Ruffians … the Doo Wops, the Hooligans are having the last laughs on Fools-again.

And we… you and me. And we are us. The land before has been eradicated. And there is no bars, only mason jars, Filled with juicy sweet peaches, Fireflies guiding us to night swims on beaches That light up the spirits that guide the new world.

where rejection is the word of the past.

Babies look up at us, wondering what it meant? They Play Naughts and Crosses, knowing that safe is a word that means safe. And hope is the currency.

And those damn defeating post-it Mantras, are gone…erased. The only cracks of those words are the scars on our souls of the time before.

We don’t talk about it to our babies, until we are in our rockers and they ask us… About the life before, the flip. And we remember faintly the days of demons.

Who knows, maybe they write a poem about it someday?

In a land built on the fractures of our mirrored souls.