Eloquent Mirror

 

Silk-enraptured angels

hide childish fears

from all these years.

By shadow of the eloquent mirror

that little girl is a warrior,

fighting with no turning back.

I”m still standing here today

after what you put me through.

It’d be easy to loathe you

but war paint wears off

when the rain falls down,

long after you’ve gone.

Some wounds never heal….

 

When I cried, you tortured me more

when I fought back you whispered:

“Don’t scream…”

No one would hear if I had been

trapped in a skeletal asylum.

Suffocated ghosts in the eloquent mirror,

haunting where you once stood

reaping the innocent soul…

watching me..taunting me…

ravaging silk savagely.

 

Petals drift whimsically,

innocence lives on through

violet ribbons in midnight skies.

Broken, crumpled,

screaming until you were finished with me.

Lying alone I was crying.

LIttle girls shouldn’t be warriors.

She shouldn’t have had t fight

to save her innocence,

to someday look in the mirror,

and despise what she shees.

She doesn’t giggle now.

She doesn’t bat her eyes.

She feels ugly.

She looks back at you,

shatters mirrors with bare hands.

She was never told she innocent

She is standing here today

but she still feels alone.

–Lavinia Thompson author of Melting Candles