The One Who Lives In My Reflection
Location
At the age of 10 she told me I wasn't going to be pretty for the rest of my life she convinced me building up the strife of war between my ego and my conscience. you're just a little girl with a big nose, she said and cheap Medicaid glasses slipping off your face when you pry your eyes down to books. Apart of me began to withdraw from the world and dig myself beneath insecurities and they stuck to me. After each new year new day, new season I had been convinced that my flaws stuck out my skin as thorns on a roses stem hurting you before you were able to acknowledge my sense of beauty. I hid behind masks of fake acceptance, pretending to be in contentment. When tears began to stain my cheek bones she stood there with the same expression. She had an impact on me, what she felt, I felt it worse and when the days grew tiresome of feeling like an under layer of a being I envisioned the day I'd punch her right in the face, shattering pieces of her existence down to my ankles and I'll bleed, crying out insanity begging, I'll plead Leave me be. You're not me, nor am I you Because the proportions of my face do not determine my beauty the thinness of my spine does not determine my bravery the weakness of my limbs does not determine my strength I was caught hesitant because there lied a dark cloud of fear and I so unaware that there are days when the sun comes out. So when I held up my fist ready for my first fight I'd swing at the girl restricting me to be happy attempting to lock up every barrier hiding away the truth. When the mirrors whispered stories I thought were tales my vision shifted she once looked me in the eyes and said I deserve nothing and I stood before her taking in what I was being fed. I look at her in the reflecting glass and I say you are flawed but it is the way I squint my eyes at you in focus that though with ugly words you say in sadness you are flawless. And as I tell her this the darkness behind her heavy head faints into nothing her eyes grow fixed her ears twitch into listening. Your hidden depth of beauty radiates through the darkness of your pupils, and they dilate when I tell her this revealing her glistening eyes. You are flawless you are not the ugliness of your conscience your features don't determine your beauty. She stands there with the look of relief Beautiful girl, your hair like fallen leaves mid autumn, Your breathe so sweet with poetry, your emotions deep. You are flawless. And there she walks away from the mirrors edge