Mirror mirror

When I see myself in a mirror
I see a series of pleas
patched-up together
to escape in a world of
no dimensions; no trials.
The beauty had been there.
Now, it’s a shrine of ashes.

Hundreds of stories I wrote
while growing up
in my imaginary world,
those come back and haunt
through my reflection.
Freedom has a price.
It takes away the voice.

White satin curtain
unveils a window.
Tripping it over with
a drunken stride
might break a heavy body
but rekindles the heart.
But does running away fixes you?
Do you feel ashamed when
you face yourself in the mirror?
Does your version of story ends here?
Do you believe the liberty is outside
somewhere and not in yourself?
Is your lump in throat heavier
than iron feet?

O’ the terrible fear of not having
answers to the questions.
I pack my heart
then unpack.
I reach, I love, I break.
The mirror admonishes me
to bring the old hurt
and nurse it back with
confusions that grew.
‘Love like you do.
Cry like everyone does.’
It repeats until
my tears stop
and saves the soul
till the next episode.


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