The Mirror Is Not Me

Wed, 12/10/2014 - 22:36 -- Gina M.

A curtain the shade of a mirrored room

Covers the face that my soul expresses.

With the colors and shades of the ones around me,

I become what they want me to be.

 

The cover will splash down like a crashing wave;

My true form will be known.

A face of an angel, a face that I love,

Is the least of what I am made of.

 

Behind my mask is a girl.

She is a girl that secretly tries so hard.

Hard to get that spotlight, the time.

None of it matters since she does not whine.

 

I am a girl that knows her information.

The girl that is smart but not perfect.

I am a girl that can relate to everyone around

No matter the type of person surrounds.

 

Inside, I do not believe in sympathy, but

I do believe in empathy.

I cannot lament over what one can lose

Until I put myself in their shoes.

 

I am that one girl that is in the corner

But in the right time, place, and moment,

I will come out into the light and dance

On the rays of the sun in my trance.

 

Inside, I am complex, and I am structured.

I do not change for those who wish to change me.

I am individualized and own the keys to the locks

Of the generalized, stereotyped box.

 

I do not belong in a box with others,

Who are supposedly just like me in one way or another.

Not a single person is me, nor am I them.

Therefore, no can subjugate me nor condemn.

 

Nobody is perfect and neither am I.

I am a girl of flaws, with worries like everyone else.

That is the only box I will be put into.

I am more than what one look will ever tell you. 

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