From Imperfect to Perfect

Looking in the mirror at my reflection,
From top to bottom, the eternal imperfection.

I think to myself how much better I could be,
Or if anyone else has seen what I see.

I took my fist and shattered the glass,
I wish things were perfect, like they were in the past.

A small drop of blood fell from my hand, to the floor,
It was divine, and I wanted to see more.

I picked up a piece of what used to be the mirror,
It felt so good, I had no fear.

I felt as if I had been freed,
I never knew it could feel so perfect to bleed.