mirror exercise

Every time I look in the mirror, I’m never sure of what I see.  I think it changes every time.  And not just because I seem to do my make-up differently every day as I can’t decide what suits me; I never know what suits me.  It’s just that every time I look in a mirror, it’s almost as if it’s a different person gawping back at me.  Occasionally it’s someone I like.  Other times, not.   Sometimes the girl I see, head tilted, often with a stupid or unsure expression on her face, is quite pretty.  Other times, not.  Sometimes she has a strange, slight grin on her face.  This indicates that something good has happened.  Today, there is no trace of this rare grin.  Today, the girl is not pretty, nor is she someone I like.  Today she looks older than her 20 years, but maybe she only thinks this because the thought of ageing terrifies her and she is paranoid about it.  She has bags beneath her eyes and her skin is sallow and grey, her cheeks blotchy.  Her hair looks lank and in need of a wash.  Her eyes are full of nothing, all those things she wants to say buried somewhere behind them.  Oh well, it’s off to the shower to decide which girl is going to leave the door and head out into the world.

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