Light, dancing wildly
Spectrums of colour, of creation
I look at my reflection
Against the cool glass
my breath staining it like frost
Sometimes I am transparent
like this mirror, like this cold air
and still, I look into myself
the crushing weight of the world
making the glass pulse
and my pulse, shatter
My emotions bleed out onto a wood frame
seeping through and taking shape
Turbulent, uncertain, blazing, brilliant
Is this me?
My inner turmoil made flesh
inside this glass tomb

I am, as I have always been,
On the wrong side of the mirror.