Broken Shards of Glass

Do you ever look at your mirror image with a sort of hidden anticipation...fearing what to expect? Does it serve the purpose of introspection or a mere assurance of your superfluous well-being?Is it an extension of your being, a silent follower or a provocative competitor?
Have you ever looked at mirror and felt a dispassionate disconnect with the person staring back at you?
I have.

I have felt an overpowering urge to shatter the mirror.Lest that image turns around to point a stoic, judgemental finger at me. I can't stand the ignomny ,the shame of being caught.I peer into the eyes of my fiery opponent and she stares back,unblinking,unabashed.
I'm scared now....does she...does she know everything? All my misgivings,my faults ,my scars...
Why does she smile then..is she pleased?
Or is it a pious, self rightous supremacy that she commands over me?
No one can judge her...she is safe.Safe within those aluminium confines.

But what if i set her free,what if the mirror shatter into miniscule pieces?Would her smirk disappear.....
Will She stop staring back?

Or would I be looking at my broken self......
Will the jagged edges of glass attempt to replicate any greater unevenness of emotions......

One can never escape that which is innate..that which is inherent.

My shadow remains..one step behind...not quite the companion, nor the stalker.
Always remembering...always reminding.