Mirror mirror, Who the fuck is that?
Every morning seems to follow the most erratic pattern you could ever imagine.
There I am rifling through my makeup bag, pulling out numerous foundations and concealers, then smearing them over ever abrasion, scar and imperfection. This is where I become an embryo, looking like everyone else. A face, clear of marks, plain, a canvas.
Now this stage of my morning routine is probably where one can finally "feel safe in their skin."
So they then move to mascara, eyeliner, whatever else takes their fancy. Anything fuckable, that tends to work.
I stand in front of the mirror for about 20 minutes, blankly, every morning. Wondering, slightly terrified, who the fuck is staring back at me. I pop on her eyelashes, a bit of a teasing eyeliner flick.
I tease my hair, I like hair, on my head that is. That's pretty much where I get most of my manipulation confidence from... yes, my hair.
I figure if I tease it, all the thoughts won't come out because they'll get all tangled stuck... like a dream catcher.
If I can make up the one in the mirror with three words, "who is she" would be it. If no one else can work me out, well we're all in the same fucking boat aren't we.
There I am rifling through my makeup bag, pulling out numerous foundations and concealers, then smearing them over ever abrasion, scar and imperfection. This is where I become an embryo, looking like everyone else. A face, clear of marks, plain, a canvas.
Now this stage of my morning routine is probably where one can finally "feel safe in their skin."
So they then move to mascara, eyeliner, whatever else takes their fancy. Anything fuckable, that tends to work.
I stand in front of the mirror for about 20 minutes, blankly, every morning. Wondering, slightly terrified, who the fuck is staring back at me. I pop on her eyelashes, a bit of a teasing eyeliner flick.
I tease my hair, I like hair, on my head that is. That's pretty much where I get most of my manipulation confidence from... yes, my hair.
I figure if I tease it, all the thoughts won't come out because they'll get all tangled stuck... like a dream catcher.
If I can make up the one in the mirror with three words, "who is she" would be it. If no one else can work me out, well we're all in the same fucking boat aren't we.
Replies
Whoever she is, she has a lot of depth, a lot of feelings, and a wonderful talent for self-expression. Your makeup is your armor, your body is your puppet, but there is somebody of great substance and worth behind it all.
The way you express yourself is compelling. Many valuable qualities shine through in the things you have written on this site.
i would concur with donna...all i see is beautiful tenderness shining through...sorry to disappoint the mirror (((hugs)))