Patina

The dusty tarnished mirror, hung in the kitchen, and dangled precariously by its thin rust-covered chain. It was suspended there for years with its worn patina falsely reflecting what it thinks it saw. Much like the memories I thought I had once, until someone I trusted told me it wasn’t true and of course in my naivety, I believed them back then. But now I don’t. I’ve been restored and what was once tarnished has been refined to reveal a bright gleaming reflection of the past, and of what is yet to come.