Mirror

As I look at my reflection, in the flat glass hanging on the wall, I wonder who I'm really looking at. Do I see beauty? Do I see ugliness? Ugliness, I see, with my disgust of shame and anger that makes the glass shatter; as is my half broken heart. Shame is disgustful because the pain and suffering that leads to the breaking of the colorful glass that seeks out my Soul. As the hot shower steams up, I clear the mirror, and I find some type of comfort and warmth in my Soul. It is confusing, yet, comforting. I wish that I may see the beauty in the mirror, but that will take many mornings to find it.