Thursday, November 6, 2008

The Girl in the Glass

I lock eyes with myself in the mirror and stare
And I wonder, I wonder who’s there,
Staring back through the cryptic-distortion
Separating me from myself, searching for the girl
Underneath that hairsprayed makeup-perfection fancy-clothes façade,
A kaleidoscope of color, my cover for the girl-child underneath
It is too rare a happening that I glimpse her hiding –
The girl who knows with confidence how to laugh so free,
The girl who can love without fear,
Who knows how to cry and when,
The girl who never feels safe enough to dwell free inside me.
It is her eyes I catch in the mirror – an ocean,
A sea of glass, shattering with my reflection.
The shards become water, spilling out, over, around, beyond me.
And I’m swallowed up, hopelessly reaching for air.
My eyes turn empty, staring up through the water, the ocean, sightless at her.
Just as my spirit departs from my soul,
She reaches – that girl-child – and grasps, reaching, grips my soggy wrist
And pulls me from the ocean’s depths, up, up, and breaking through to the top
I breathe. And I breathe – my first real breath.
She tells me: keep breathing, you can stop drowning now.
Stop drowning! In the roaring, trouble-tossed sea
And just breathe!
It’s time to start swimming, she whispers.
Swim, breathe, smile breathe, grow-free breathe, cherish every moment
Cry out the painful tears with passion!
Breathe love, breathe laugh, breathe live, breathe air,
Breathe grow – we are one, now, together,
I will stay this time, with you. We’re safe.
You can stop jumping into the glass, the mirror, the façade
That is really that ocean of guilt, of misery
From which I caught you drowning. Again.
Don’t jump next time. Just breathe.
We’re safe, together – I love you. Breathe.