Reflections
I stand before the mirror,
expecting something familiar
something that feels like me.
But what looks back
is a distortion
of everything I thought I knew.
At first, I call it deceit.
A reflection that lies,
a surface that twists
what should have been simple.
But then it shifts.
Not the mirror
me.
Perhaps it was never distortion,
only a truth
I refused to recognize.
Blinded by what I believed I was,
I failed to see
what I had become.
The eyes appear lit,
yet all I see is dimness.
The face seems cheerful,
yet it feels distant
detached,
unreached.
A girl stands before the mirror.
But the reflection
she lives the life
I was supposed to live.
And somewhere between the two,
I remain
uncertain
of which one
is truly me.
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