Why run from a half truth?
What does a fractured mirror show?
And hidden in your room,
Away from daylight,
Away from love,
A face finds a pillow,
A pillow soaked in tears,
Saying, “that’s not me,
It is not enough.”
Down the stairs
Through the screen door
Is a yard,
Is a fence,
Is a world.
What the mirror doesn’t show
What you fear is what you have to let go,
And the conversations in your head
about who you would rather be instead,
Are quieted to silence
As you pass down the street
And you look up to see kids on swings,
Then and there, a picture incomplete,
Because they have years to grow.
You look up to see a freckled face
And you see yourself for the first time.