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Iโ€™m watching myself through the reflection, i look as dead as i feel. iโ€™m trying to pick up the pieces of the hearts that iโ€™ve broken. maybe theyโ€™ll fit together to make mine. i want to help myself with all the pieces and lay them on a plain sheet so i can judge them separately and inspect even their littlest flaws. I see my mother come but she isnโ€™t looking at me, sheโ€™s looking at what i was trying to piece back together. she nods as if she understands, i try to look into her eyes. but iโ€™m just a reflection. soon she stands in front of me and iโ€™m no longer the reflection. i try to pick up the pieces now, but theyโ€™re slippery. they slipped past my fingers just as quickly as i did from yours. i spill milk over the pieces and try to create a masterpiece. iโ€™ve never been an artist but i could always paint the sky. iโ€™ve never been a writer but i could always make my words dance. iโ€™ve never been a lover but i could always break their hearts. i take the pieces and paste them, i try to create a shape but they donโ€™t fit well with each other. they have cracks over them and they keep changing colours. i grab the one that looks new and break it into two more pieces. i can feel the wicked smile creeping to my face but the tears form just as quickly. the heart looks sad now, i want to piece it back together. iโ€™m the reflection again, i want to help myself with gathering all the pieces and put them together to make it look like a heart, somewhat similar to mine but iโ€™m a mere reflection and Iโ€™ll never have any hands, or a voice.

Profile picture for Now&Me member @drishtigupta
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Profile picture for Now&Me member @drishtigupta

Drishti Gupta @drishtigupt...


Beautifully expressed.


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