A weird thought comes creeping into my silly little pea brain.
What if what I see in the mirror is not true?
What if I do not know the truth about myself?
What if I do not know exactly what I look like?
Every person looks at me with a different gaze.
Some see beauty, some see disgust.
When I look into a mirror, whether it is real or not,
I know it is me, but in reverse.
Birds do not realize it is them.
They attack the mirror, thinking it is another bird.
They make themselves their enemy,
diving into the windows and killing themselves.
If only we could recognise ourselves,
So lost that it is difficult to remember who we really are.
The mirror is the only constant in life.
It is the only thing that has seen us in every different phase of our lives.
From child to adult, it has seen us all.
It has seen our vulnerabilities.
We have cried, laughed, and thrown stuff at our reflection.
We grew up in front of our mirrors.
Only wish the mirror could show me the real me.
Along with my demons.
