Mirror, mirror.

We want to be just so broken
that someone
might want to repair it.

The hopeless heart.
The unlovable soul.
All wolf cries for help.

Just illusions formed
and allusions made
on close inspection of empty words.

Never meant to show the truth,
only blur the vision of it.

We want to create
this image of us
so the reflection might seem more real.

So we might become
what our eyes think they see.

So that we may find,
in this miserable world,
someone
to share our miseries with.