Reflection

By Indrani Chakrabarty

Every morning, I wake up
and walk up to the mirror on the wall.
Every morning, I see a girl—
broken and small.

There’s another pair of eyes,
just as brown and dark,
staring at me.
One so bright, filled with stars,
the other heavy with despair and scars.

Staring at the cold glass,
there’s a little child looking back at me—
in her fluffy dress, flowers in her curls,
holding up her little blonde doll.

I wonder what went wrong.

Looking at myself, I realize—
no matter how shattered and useless I feel,
the little girl before me
will help me heal.

I touch my finger to the mirror,
and she smiles, her face a glimmer.
Touching her finger to mine,
we both realize—

She’s still there within me,
hidden somewhere only I can see.
Sharing the same dreams and tastes,
hers are vivid, and mine are yet to come alive.

The little girl is me,
my reflection staring back at me—
trapped in the mirror of my mind.
She’s my former self, an innocent child.

And all I have to do
is make her survive.