My post about mirrors

What if whenever we cry our reflections reach out of the mirror to comfort us when we’re not looking? When no one’s looking. We would lock ourselves in the bathroom and and cry our back facing the mirror and our reflections reach out, placing a comforting hand on our shoulder. They would sit next to us when we rest our head on our crossed arms on our knees, legs tucked close to our chests. They’re made of glass though aren’t they? Glass arms, glass legs , glass heart. The slightest push of sad frustration on they’d come crashing down. Sharp pieces of broken  glass that we could easily cut ourselves on surrounding us. We wouldn’t be able to get up and pick up the pieces of glass without cutting ourselves. We would just have to sit there and wait for someone to come pick up the pieces scattered around us. We could get a new mirror, but it wouldn’t be the same. We could glue the pieces back together but there would always be cracks and little smudges of dried glue or small patches where the shards weren’t found. No more comfort, no one to trust of confide in