Imperfect Reflections

 

[POV: The Mirror in Your Room]

She throws her schoolbag on the floor,

slams and shuts her door.

Tears in her eyes,

a lighter in her hand sprinting for the thighs.

A fighter in her that she doesn’t recognise.

I see it.

 

She seems to hate everything she does,

constantly keeps beating herself up.

There’s constant pain

lurking in her brain.

I see it.

 

I look at her

I see myself in a different colour,

a little blurry,

filled with love, hate, fury.

Not very different,

just cold and dark trying to bury

her feelings in this coffin for a house.

 

She’s half-naked on her bed

staring at the ceiling and walls

the walls and ceiling stare back,

with the diary in her hand

constantly having panic attacks.

I see it.

 

When she comes near me,

to paint her face

not able to recognise herself

just faking this grace

trying to fit in this world

with the overwhelming pace.

I see it.

 

What I am is a perfect mirror

as I reflect light

I’m here to remind you that

you were born for a fight.

The amount of beauty you have inside,

which you need to find despite

the fake smile you wear

which does nothing but tears

you to pieces which no one can see.

I see it.

You don’t.

 

For I only show reflections,

but what’s on you is to reflect what you want to see.