What Is There To Look At?

 
Reflections of me
are hard to find, nerve
endings unwind around
crystal  stemware.

 It felt good to rest  my feet
on ice picks with  mis-matched
handles. juice from day old
 cherry  pie stains my lips
and  my teeth.  

Cash due on the rental of a
two- ton floor  jack  painted  
blue it  holds the structure
I've built around  my heart
 built with resilience and  
a pallet load of quilted velvet
  and rebar.

I sat looking into pieces of
a  vintage chandelier cracked
 the plating worn away
half the dangles are missing
the other half shine beautifully.
They are the reflection of
myself  I have found
but, am  afraid to look at