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Mirror Image

By
Mirror Image

When I look into the mirror
strange eyes stare back at me.
I see a different person
unfamiliar to my memory.

I see the girl that everyone knows me by
not the real one inside of me.
She wears a smile on her lips
and the future in her hair.

I see an outer structure used to deceive
just like the patterns on a butterfly’s wings,
there to confuse predators,
there to prolong survival.

I see a glimmer of hope in her eyes,
like the hope that we see as the snow starts to melt,
as the trees start growing their new leaves and flowers
and we hope for spring.

I see a reassuring look,
a guard protecting a castle,
shielding any dangers to the queen;
to my heart.

This girl that stares back at me,
scared, strong, assured and ready,
seems like a surreal image
but she is real.

She doesn’t compare to me
or to my secretive dark insides.
The ones that fight a daily war
between right and wrong.

The girl must see me
as her own self.
She is my mirror image.
She is my equal.





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