The girl in the mirror and I
Although we pass each other by
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.