Letting yourself love,

Is giving someone access,

Too a loaded gun,

Pointing dangerously,

Aimed directly,

At your heart.

My heart is a mirror,

Reflecting my surroundings,

The thing about mirrors is,

It is almost impossible,

To distroy one,

Only distort and deform it.

You can shatter a mirror,

But it’s still a mirror,

Even though it’s broken.

The mirror still does its job,

Even if you fire the gun,

Even if you feel it shouldn’t work,

That the mirror should jsut stop working,

It reflects its surroundings still,

Dispite all odds.

It just works in a different way.

One that we are not used to.

My heart is a mirror.

So please, be patient.

I’m trying to get used,

The the new images reflecting,

And the new way it works.

I’m giving you this loaded gun.

I beg you, please don’t shoot.

I’m not sure I can readjust again,

You can’t see through the cracks anymore,

One more shot, and it will turn to dust.

Incapable of working.

And I’ll just have to throw it away.

Give up.

So forgive me as I stare into the eyes,

of the person I once loved,

Every ounce of affection,

Slowly melting into suspension.