The Mirror’s Pledge Of Allegiance
Every time I look in a mirror,
My reflection asks,
“Do you like what you see?”
Of course, that’s a joke
Between her and me.
A joke that tells me she caught me.
A joke that tells me she knows the answer.
Still, I need to ask myself,
Do I like what I see?
I’ve looked into my reflection’s small, brown eyes
Enough times to know there’s green in them.
I’ve looked at my reflection’s thin, brown hair
Enough times to know that there’s blonde in it.
I’ve observed my reflection
A thousand times.
A million times.
A billion times.
But, every time I look,
All I’m doing is waiting for the day
That I look into my reflection’s eyes
And find contentment instead of disappointment.
All I’m doing is waiting for the day
That I look at my reflection’s hair
And see it’s luscious, thick and wavy.
All I’m doing is waiting for the day
That I look at my reflection’s face
And find it’s not wrapped in fatty, porous skin.
All I’m doing is waiting for the day
That I look into my reflection’s face
And observe that who I’m seeing
Isn’t me at all…
Every time I look in the mirror,
I’m waiting for me to disappear
And in my place,
A perfect model of her race.
A genuine, smiling caring person,
Not this current sack of filth I’m cursin’.
One who doesn’t ever worry her pretty little head
Would be standing in my stead…
“That day hasn’t come yet,”
I say to the mirror.
The girl with hollow eyes
On the glass’s other side
echoes my despair back at me,
Adding insult to injury.
Every time I look in a mirror,
My reflection asks,
“Do you like what you see?”
Every time she does, I say, “Sure.”
Still, I need to ask myself,
Do I like what I see?
But, I already know the answer.
It looms over me
Like a shadow, like a wave,
Like an agonizingly long pause,
Before the action of a movie starts…
“Do I like what I see?” I ask the mirror.
My reflection looks up at me
With those brown and green eyes
And opens her cracked, dry lips
To utter the words,
“No. No you don’t…
But keep this a secret,
Between the two of us.”
Then, I make a pinky promise with my
Shadows as they latch to me
Like shackles of iron.
As they weigh me down, they lift me up.
I feel like a beggar emperor
Who can stand before a multitude,
With her eyes pointed downward
And shout with a voice of steel,
“Veni, vidi, vici,”
With shaking, quaking,
Epileptic knees.
As I look into the deep abyss
Of my reflection’s dark pupils,
I can see my future unfurl
Before my eyes like a scroll.
As I fall to the ground, I will shout to the heavens
Of my undying allegiance
To the shadowy shackles of silence.
With my dying breath,
I will look up and see my reflection standing
Amongst the crowd of angry assassins
And I will whisper,
“Et tu?” as my last words.
My face will be one of surprise to see
The one thing I thought was certain,
the one constant I thought friend
Was the one thing that was my end.
But, it’s too late to think now.
My celeritas has made the throw.
The deed is done, the die is cast.
“Alea iacta est.”
I will ride out into the beautiful battlefield,
Out my door and into the world,
With a drawn sword and a plastered smile.
I have made a pact with my mirror,
A pledge to, one day, disappear.
