Gazing into the polished silver framed mirror, a very familiar person stares back.
They at first glance at the reflection, eyebrows raising with a familiar feeling of surprise, before the eyes soften and the glance becomes a gaze, which soon becomes a look of concentration and criticism. The eyes narrow as they seek out and curse at every single thing that's wrong, and then in a rage of fury -
The mirror cracks.
Shatters.
...the lights of a thousand tiny stars...
Everything is silent.
Empty.
The guilty at first shies away, before lifting the head - just a bit - afraid. The barrier is not meant to be broken.
There's another way.
A gust of wind - feathers float - an empty room.
The mask we don...
...reflected in the unbroken mirror...
Very distinctive and artistic first posts! You mentioned that you plan to post to your blog more like once a week, and I look forward in the near future to seeing how you develop this poetic and interestingly metaphoric take on self-reflection.
ReplyDeleteI especially like the first stanza thing of this post. I think that that feeling of criticism of physical features is something a lot of people experience and deal with everyday, but it's something that's very private and never talked about in regular life--and so I think that you voicing it here let's people read and relate and empathize with those feelings.
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