The Mirror

And so the story goes
It was you, not me.
Can't you see
My glass is not half full, but empty.
My shoes are too tight and my head too heavy.
It's because of you that I feel so weary.
You didn't know how to make me feel,
Whole.
You didn't see that my heart felt so cold.
Why didn't you fix what was broken?

My reflection isn't me, is it?
It must be you,
It has to be
If it were me
I'd have...
Responsibility.

But.
You're right.
It was me all along.
I own all this mess
It's all my own song.
The cobwebs and dust, that hang from the walls,
All. Mine.

I can see now that the pain, and the divine
All belong to me.
You are only an image
Of what I want to be
Or don't.
I have the choice to love, to feel, to own
The beauty of the chaos that swirls inside of me.