Broken Mirrors

She stooped down and looked at her reflection glistening on the water. It was someone she had never seen before. It wasn't her face, it couldn't be. They weren't her eyes- they were too dull. The evening sun caught the luster in her hazelnut hair and flung it out over the water, and the clear depths sang of a life not inhibited by sorrow. That sparkling image, that clear visage could not belong to her- she would not believe it- yet she could not look away. She knew of the blackness of her heart, she knew of the pain that dwelt in it’s depths, and that face staring back at her showed none of what she really was; it could not be her. It was not her.
And a tear, which the reflection failed to see, dropped, and the glass was shattered.