Saturday, July 25, 2015

The reflection sends back three faces
one of what I look like now
one of what I used to look like
and one of the little girl inside the other two.

What did I think when looking at my seven-year-old self?
What did I say to my 49-year-old self?
How did the voice change?
Why? Was it my voice?

Whose words are stuck in my head?
Were they kind?
Who were these faces trying to please?
Who taught “please everyone?”

What would my voice say now
to the seven and forty-nine-year-old reflections?
The little girl is still there
She is my spirit.

They can break my mirror but never my spirit.