June 1, 2009
By poeticstarlet94 PLATINUM, Irving, Texas
poeticstarlet94 PLATINUM, Irving, Texas
30 articles 0 photos 6 comments

Favorite Quote:
"To thine own self be true."

Mirrors. What are they anyway? Worthless slivers of reflective glass that show you what you already know is there. They confirm the fears and worries and truths you already had. They rub your nose in the reality of what you presumed was inevitably true long ago.

I hate mirrors. Especially the morning after. The morning after I’ve sold my soul to the devil yet again. The morning after I’ve poisoned my body and tainted my being once more. I hate seeing a pale, frizzy-haired lanky girl staring back at me knowing who she could be, who she should be…but she isn’t.

She could be a good kid. A reliable daughter and admirable older sister. She could be a stellar student and successful instrumentalist or dancer or actress in school productions. She should be innocent and sheltered—like her family tried to keep her. She should not know how to inject toxins into her body. She should not know how it feels to be touched and used by someone who will probably not even remember her name tomorrow…because they never asked in the first place. She should be Christine.

But now she is Carissa. Clarissa. Chrissy. Christy. Cari. Any name besides her real one. Whatever sounds sexy and believable enough for him to whisper to himself and get pumped and pay her extra. “Whatever makes the customer happy,” Dante says. “Do whatever you have to do to get him to dig deep in those pockets.” So I drink with them. Smoke with them. Get high as a kite with them so I won’t be fully aware of what I’m going to do—so maybe I won’t remember and regret it so much the morning after.

Mirrors are the enemy. They are the adversary because they do not lie. They tell the whole truth without saying anything. They show you you. They stare at you and laugh and point fingers and say, “I told you so.” “I knew this would happen.” “Look at what you’ve become.” “Is this the life you want?” “You’re a whore.” “You’re dirty.” “No one loves you.” “No one wants you now.”

Yes, mirrors, mirrors. You can’t live with them, you couldn’t kick yourself for becoming this way without them.

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