A Distorted Mirror

• Caitlin Paddick, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2013

I’d circle the earth, once or twice,
With my bare feet and my sobbing echo
I’ll force your head into every mirror and your eyes upon every lake,
Until your reflection floats with you instead for around you
wafting around like a poisonous gas.
A butterfly net won’t capture it,
and I wouldn’t dare confine you to an image
you’re far from a still life,
Your reflection is a thousand little slowly moving intricacies,
That you don’t have big enough hands to hold or eyes wide enough to see.
And to think all this time you have been breathing underwater,
When it’s just another lock and key
The mirror shatters the metal rusts and the reflection in the sea,
is disturbed by your own enemy
A shimmer of glitter, a flash of bright lights won’t cure you
But your mind is open despite your clouded perception