Reflections

A poem I wrote after pulling through a depression

When you stop
and take a good long look at yourself
in the mirror:
What's been tearing you up
inside?
glimpses and phrases,
tears and fucked up situations,
beating hearts, and ticking metronomes
telling you who you should be
or who you are
when the lights go off.
Slut.
Yeah, take a good long look.
So fucking what?
Take another drink.
Keep driving down that road.
Slip on those sexy ass boots
and tell me
I will never reach my dreams.
Take a good long look in the mirror.
And scream.
Scream about
how beautiful you are,
and how gorgeous you are,
how the world doesn't know
who the fuck you are
or why sometimes
you feel
like you need to be held in the mornings
when you can't sleep.
Take one more long ass look
in the mirror.
Who are you?
Who could you be?
Who will you be?
Now,
break the goddam mirror
and watch the pieces fall
because the mirror
cannot tell you who you are
or who you'll be
or why you cry
or why you smile.
Because who you are
cannot be measured
and cannot be weighed
by reflections
but only by the visions
you have, of yourself.