Mirror, mirror

Hello face.

It’s been a long haul.

How many times, over the years, have you been reflected- how many mirrors.

You were once told, if you looked in a ‘True Mirror’, you would see yourself as you were... to others.

Visual effect, nothing more.

Vision of the self, as the shell.

I look at this reflection, cast back over time- new lines, signs of disregard, signs of fast times and loads of fun, signs of pain kept inside, of sadness and fierce looks- yes, you’re damn fucking right I’m wearing dark red, or burgundy and black paint tonight! I will dance until all that’s left is faded, and the lipstick- whatever wasn’t left on an available cheek with my chesire kiss- replenished until that is all that remains.

I look at this reflection, thinking it’s too late to fix what I should have been mindful of, to repair that which I was I was so uncaring of.

I look at this reflection- knowing that those who meet me now- see only what I show them now. They have no photos of the past, when we were ‘just babes’. They have no slight memory of a day that could lead them to an ‘oh, oh my- you look so different now’.

I look at this reflection, this face, and say: yet, would they say this is me? The me now, time worn, yet smiling. Time worn, yet showing where those thought lines started- and why they’ve deepened.

I look at this reflection, I make faces at my face- because, well, I’ve always made faces at me. It’s fun, it’s cathartic, it’s wondering when I’ll come down, and who this shell is underneath the skin suit. It’s what I do.

Hello face. Those who see you and smile? They know you for what you let through you. They know you for the sparkle in your eye, for the grin that- as wrinkled around the edges as it may be- still shows like the Joker’s smile, and yet, like a smile they can share. You don’t want anything from them, but a smile in return. And when you frown, face, oh honey when you frown- they’ll know, they’ll worry, but they will be oh so quick to rejoice when you look at them, have dealt with it, and make them smile in return.

You, dear face- are growing old. As a female face, this could be seen as a fading into memory, into obsolescense... only, of course- if you let it, if you let them.

I look at this reflection- I see experiences. Smiles, grins, tears, rage, anger, and some fear... but that fear is not so much about what this reflection appears to be.

Hello face. You are me. I am you. Let’s make a face today. I stick out my tongue, I grin and wink, I cover your spots, and highlight your angles. You keep being you.

I look at this reflection- this face- and I see not a mask that may have tarnished or weathered, I just see a different guise of me. The next stage of me- and my face.

Thank you, face, for being what a face is, in the grand scheme of faces. Thank you, for playing with me in the mirror over the years. You’ve always been there, even when I didn’t recognize you. Even- when I didn’t want to look at you, yet you always, found a way to smile at me.