Staring at the expressionless reflection on the other side of the mirror

Searching for the hopes and dreams and aspirations that once became me

Praying for a change in the future when the women of my age realize that their body is a temple and sacred to God

Wishing what if and if only

If only I could relive the past, undo the regret, and keep only the life lesson

Regression

But isn’t the art of living, in fact the act of procession?

I don’t know, maybe I just don’t get it

It seems like I’m living in a secretly segregated society where blacks secretly hate whites

And whites secretly hate blacks

And with every color in between there is a problem

Cops with crooked intents

Gone, is another life full of innocence

Retaliation on the minds of those seeking justice

What happened to that peaceful nature of protests?

Peace and justice go hand in hand with prayer, remember that!

I’m stuck in a society where men feel it’s okay to lay a hand on their woman and claim they love her

And women can desert their children and still proclaim she is a mother

And if I can see all of this in a reflection what does that say about my perception of life?

Still staring

Unable to fully recognize the girl I see staring back at me

It seems as though life has played its number yet made her stronger and weaker at the same time

More self-aware and conscious of her surroundings

Yet fully unaware of the transformations taking place within her

She’s flawlessly radiant, but she has no clue

She’s numb

She’s taught herself to be cold hearted and detached

A mask of protection

She’s afraid of getting too close for the fear of being wounded and rejected

Dejected

She’s jaded, not faded, but already gone

She chose the “book” route

Searching for her existence through knowledge

Knowledge, the only love she’s ever known

Working her way up so that she’s not another statistic on a website

She’s determined

Eager to be another young African American to make a headline

No Trayvon Martin

She never had anything to show for yet she’s willing to give it all

She’s determined

And if I can see all of this in a reflection what does that say about my perception of this lower class black girl with curly hair, a round belly, and a flat ass?

Like mist slowly clearing from a bathroom mirror

She can see the image clearer

Flawlessly radiant, a heart of gold, and a smile to kill for

She knows exactly who she is and where she’s going because she’s confident

She’s motivated

Determined to make her story a successful one

A problem solver

Ready to lend an ear although not easily reciprocated

Yet she’s still broken

And if I can see all of this in a reflection what does that say about my perception of me?