Broken images

Shattered pieces of the mirror on the ground
every piece forms a sound
of what I always wanted to be yet not
 
Screams of my past caused said destruction
loud from afar,  then soft whispers so near
that only I  only can hear
 
I catch a faint glance of myself
in the messy shards
these are images Id love to discard
 
Trying to put these scattered pieces back together
my fingers and soul blood-stained forever
I need to heal in order to see myself again...