The girl in the mirror

The girl in the mirror and I
are rivals.
Although we pass each other by
several times,
we don’t even exchange smiles.

She is strong, fierce and powerful.
She wins every battle she goes into.
I am not that strong or fierce
I like fighting the losing battle.
She lives in an old brick house
with tikijhya windows
that open up to a big chuka:
mine’s made up of cement
with windows full of steel bars
opening upto a big concrete jungle.

She is beautiful and flawless
with pretty eyes and warm smile
she will melt your heart in few seconds.
She is guarded,
her deeper thoughts unknown to many
she doesn’t share them till it’s necessary
she has a wall around her,
that you can’t see,
you feel that you know her,
I always do,
but I also know that
this is not true.

I have a scar on the side of my cheeks
from stumbling and falling across the streets
I break things that I don’t know how to make
I share things, I can’t keep a secret.
She laughs at me
for she has this upper hand in this war
she knows me more than myself
the fire that is ignited inside us
she knows how to turn it off.

She is kind, caring and loving.
Sweet, full of patience and enduring
Careful, and selfless,
unlike mine, her heart doesn’t wonder and ponder
go back and forth time and again
her heart is not a fickle.
Mine changes direction
faster than the blink of an eye,
I debate and argue with myself
every single time
while she has no enemy,
I am the worst of me.

She is the girl in the mirror,
and we don’t go side by side.
She is anti-me from the anti-universe
she is everything I ever wanted to be
but never could be.

 

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3 thoughts on “The girl in the mirror

  1. I look at the mirror
    there I see a man
    holding his breathe
    and a heart in his hand

    his eyes sparkle with light
    lighter than the thin air
    that smile the wide one
    has his pain disappear
    With tick and tocks
    a bow tie extends to long ones
    that hair changes its form
    along with his skin tones

    He stares back at me,
    smiles
    and puts a fake cough to cause a pretend
    into sort of reality
    He then pulls the strings to create
    something out from what’s beating on his hand
    keeps the big ones still alive
    draws the flaws with fingers in that sand
    once again I tend to stare at that face
    only the face
    rest on a splash of water
    blurred thoughts of where that man belongs to tomorrow

    within stares on pieces I see now
    the places change that ranges around
    the beat, the note showered from behind
    and a calm smile for that calm sound

    slowly the wrinkles photoshop themselves
    on to this very mirror
    hike up to the places where hair loses its form
    and the big glasses stay firm above that gap
    but the smiles still smile

    I look at that mirror
    there I see a man
    now holding a key to where I can possibly be
    with a bit of effort in hand

    I then smile back
    and have myself away from this mirror
    The sun’s still warm
    and the air in my very skin is cooler

    I see the world and feel him
    behind my eyes

    🙂

  2. Pingback: Her. | suskeraharu

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