I stared at the mirror for who knew how long, I liked the girl inside, Her once oiled and tightly braided black hair was open and streaked in bold colors of gold and orange, Like sunrays in the middle of the night. Beautiful.
Her black eyes lined and shadowed, her lips a bit too red and provocative, but it was fine, she could get used to it... Her nails were painted in unusual designs, back home she rarely knew that nails could be so artfully transformed, having only polished them on very few occasions, in basic dull colors you could get with five taka...
But what I liked best was the confidence she held, I could have never stood straight in heels, not that I had ever owned a pair to begin with, but she stood with poise in her Jimmy Choo's, I would have never worn shorts and crop tops instead of my Salwar-Kameez, and I wouldve never flaunted that peacock tattoo she wore under her colloarbone, I would've never done any of it, and yet I admired this girl in the mirror, who stared right back at me, challenging me...
I felt inferior to her, I evaluated my self-worth, I doubted myself only then I realised, who was she to question me! and why should I answer her!
If she was much sought-after moon, then it was I, the sun who gave her the light to shine.
I glared at her, I didn't want her approval, I didn't need to change, I was me. And I was more than fine with it.
I refused to relent, she wouldn't back down...
I stood a long time in my empty room, my eyes locked with those of the girl in the mirror.
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For those times when our reflection looks so beautiful we forget its only us.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Forgettable Figments...
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