I beg you, mirror, do not cry!

Don’t give this empty room the pleasure

Of witnessing your glass tears slide

Down my glass face, and fall, and shatter;

/

Don’t let it see me on my knees,

Bereft of purpose, hope and meaning,

Struggling to breathe and not to scream

Under this low, old, crumbling ceiling;

/

Don’t let my room remember that

Like others, I sometimes have moments

Of weakness, and forget my strength –

If it remembers, I’ll be homeless;

/

Reflect my eyes in yours as dry,

My lips, pressed shut, as if they’re smiling;

Help me pretend that I am fine,

That here, in me, there’s light still shining