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“Shattered mirrors on the living room floor, a place where mirrors — in any form — should not be. Lying and laying — up and down the room they reflect each whole thing, its completeness, as if the very sight could harm us — so perfect, so unreal from their perspective. I drown on the floorboards, you waste my tears by drying them. All the lies, the lies you told, up and down the room like mirrors, broken ones. Truth reflects nothing unless it’s broken. Outside this room, you roam the hallways, searching for feelings within. Dating a lie, dangerous and monstrous like your mind and soul. Survival is a matter of time and a dance on balanced sheets. The shattered pieces still lie there — waiting for completeness to end, chaos ensuring perfection. The lies fall still in the afternoon light that rests on the floorboards. Breathing easily now, vanishing glimpses — truth fades slowly, holding no place between you and me and all the lies you told.” — Laura Chouette