Broken Glass
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary:But the glass can only break so many times before the mirror shatters.
A/N: I'm in an angst writing mood. Ha ha. When am I not? Well, here's an idea that I got, please read and review!
--
Have you ever been to Tawni Town?
I wouldn't expect so.
No one ever goes there, no one but me.
I like it there, it's fun, filled mirrors and lights, and pictures of me, strung across the walls like I'm a princess.
I've always wanted to be a princess.
When I go there, it's like nothing else in the world matters but me.
Me. Me. Me. Me.
I know that makes me sound egotistical and conceited.
But, the truth of the matter is, I am.
I always have been.
I love to look at myself.
Stare into the mirror, take in every perfection, the flawlessness that is me.
But, it's not always true.
Sometimes.... I'm not perfect.
Sometimes when I look in the mirror, every flaw flies out at me, and it's so obvious it's there.
And I feel like I want to cry, but I can't.
All I can do is smile, and keep staring, like there's nothing wrong.
But sometimes when I smile at the mirror, it doesn't smile back.
Sometimes my reflection frowns, and I don't feel pretty.
I feel... different.
Normal.
Sometimes the mirror doesn't always want to look back.
Sometimes it cracks, sometimes it breaks.
But the glass can only break so many times before the mirror shatters.
I don't want it to shatter.
That's all that's left of me.
Pathetic, I know.
All that represents Tawni Hart is a crappy mirror, in a town that doesn't even exist.
But it's all I have, and I need to be proud of it.
If I'm not, I lose.
And I do not lose.
And I am never wrong.
The mirror won't break.
The glass won't shatter.
I won't let it.
I will do all I can to stop it from tumbling to the floor and being reduced to peices.
Parts of a whole.
Bits of something that will never come back.
That's what I am.
So why shouldn't it be too?
That would make sense.
What is me should be like me.
But I can't let go.
I won't let go.
If I let go, I've lost everything.
I need something.
I've got nothing.
No one even sees that I'm fading, fading into the black.
My reflection is scarce.
But it will always be there.
I will make sure of it.
Because that's what makes me Tawni Hart.
Broken bits of glass and a reflection you can barely see.
--
-Ema
