Grey Reflections

I used to recognize myself...
It's funny how reflections change.

Like a crack in a mirror, a splatter of 'exchange'.
The cracks race up one another and yet they also fall straight...
I stare at myself.
I put my fingers on the mirror and look at what former things passed away...
Some call the shell a mask...
Some call it a protection...
I call it trying to be a shadow to my own recognition.
But now as I reflect, reflect back on myself...
I am not who I thought I'd become.
My hair falls about my shoulders, I look back at my impression...
My face is grey and hollow.
The eyes of my body have become vacant...

I used to recognize myself...
It's funny how reflections change. 

Cracked.