The Tragedy of the Glass

In you, I found me.
I found myself reflected, and
My soul was deep affected,
By finding you I found a piece of me.

The shards are sharp and jagged, and
What was once perfection
The reflection, now lies in its lone rejection
And the shards bleed true as do you and me.

Never shall I gaze again
And see myself in you
Desolate though that it may be
The tragedy lies not with me

But with you, that you are broken
Could it have been the words
Not spoken
That reduced us to the fragments
That now serve as lonely tokens?

Or, possibly, could I not see?
Blinded by excitement and expectations
I could never hope to meet.
I never understood, I never claimed I could
Or would, but you, you revered
What you had with me.

The tragedy lies not with me
The shards remain, unable to be recovered by me
But recovered they shall be
And she shall look upon you, and she shall feel it too
That change, unnamed yet known yet vague,
And she shall say,
“In you, I found me.”