The Mirror

Looking into the mirror in my hand…well I can’t look into the mirror in my hand. I can’t look into my eyes. But if I could I would ask the mirror do my eyes betray what I feel inside? Do my eyes show what happened in my past? Do my eyes scream? Do they give away the sadness of a child through young adult who lived through abuse, neglect and terrible torture?

Or would my eyes say “look at me I am a survivor.” I lived and survived. Would my eyes twinkle with delight knowing I can see, hear and touch my beautiful children? Would my eyes reveal hope for a future of me? Would my eyes reveal one strong person or would my eyes open to reveal the shattered and fractured survival techniques I used to cope?

Are my eyes flat and dull or do they shine with life. And would my mirror respond to those questions with, “Yes, All of the above.”

“Now” the mirror would say, “Now, look and see the reflection of a life worth living.” And then – I would smile into the mirror.


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