Who Am I

April 24, 2012
By Anonymous

She looks into the mirror and gazes at herself.
Her reflection shimmers off of the glass and into her eyes.
I see a girl.
A girl with shoulder length, brownish-red hair. She has deep green eyes and black liner surrounding them, the line sharp and straight.
I see her top lip is a bit smaller than her bottom lip, gloss covering both of them, making her lips shine in the dim light.
Her nose has a bump at the top of it, then curves down straight. There are two small nostrils on the sides of her nose, showing a characteristic of the African American she has in her.
I see a tan face, neck and chest. Her neck is slender with deep curves and intense depth around her collar bone.
Her cheekbones are very definite whenever she smiles. Her smile is a little off, her lips sinking lower to one side than the other, making her teeth look off too.
Her teeth are yellowed at the top, probably because she smokes a pack of cigarettes a day. Other than that, they're all straight.
Her body is almost a straight line, she has no curves. She is wearing bright blue jeans and a purple tank top, showing off some of her chest. Her chest is busty, the only curve it seems though she has.
Her arms are long and slender, her legs are long and lanky. She is a very tall girl, standing at almost 5'10.
Her fingers are long too, and her hands look bony but also soft.
I look deeper into her eyes, her lovely green eyes.
She has such a pleasant, innocent, loving face. She seems so gentile and divine.
But I know.
I know the truth behind the lies her looks conceal.
I know what she has seen behind those beautiful green eyes.
She's seen happiness, pain, disappoinment, pride, anger, horrors, beautiful things.
She's watched herself grow from a warm child into a cold teenager.
I know what those lips have felt.
She has kissed many different guys. Those lips had touched other lips, so sweet in a time. At once it felt like love, it felt like happiness, it felt like joy. She felt like the world could just explode around her she had been so happy. So many different guys, yet always the fireworks in the back of her mind.
Some kisses were of love, some were of lust, some were even of hate, but they had all meant something. And her lips once had those emotions playing on their surfaces.
I know she puts about 20 cigarettes to her lips every day and smokes them down to the butt.
I know she puts a silver pipe to her lips every day and smokes her weed and calms her mind down, thinking there is no other way out.
She has put numerous bottles of alcohol to her lips, to get rid of the pain for a moment or two. Causing her to feel like complete S*** the next morning..
I know what has been in and out of her mouth.
Some things bad, some good.
I know words of pure hatred and craziness has left her mouth, traveling into the minds of others and becoming a regular part of her life. Cussing, name calling, words of hate have formed in her mouth and have been spoken.
Words of encouragement, excitement and love has also ecscaped her mouth. She knew how to speak well and pursuade people with her intelligence. Sometimes words just seemed to come naturally, trickling off her tongue like honey. She is very well-mannered arounnd adults.
I know about her body.
I know of the beds she has been in and out of, the men that have been on top of her, the pictures of her body she has taken and sent.
She lost her virginity at 15 to a complete loser. Ever since then she has gone around thinking that sex is the key to love. And all along she has been wrong. Each time she lay down with a man, she just wanted love to blossom, she wanted them to love her. Sadly, she didn't figure out until much later that people aren't always as they seem.
She has disrespected her body in so many ways. Once so pure and clean, she suddenly let go of all her virtues.
I know that under those jeans she's wearing there is a tattoo that says her name right on the panty line. With her birth sign in bright blue behind the name.
Her parents don't know that she got this tattoo when she was 15, on a bed, by her best friend's stepfather.
I know who she is, I know what she's been though, and I know what kind of a person she really is.
This girl is me.
Looks can be deceiving.

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