If I’d ever learned how to be,
I think I’d be proud of myself
for this momentary triumph
against the girl in the mirror.
What’s the word for the feeling
that comes far beyond exhaustion?
I’m not sure that there is one.
But there should be because
I want to know what to call
the world I see reflected in the
eyes of that girl in the mirror.
But I’m standing here nonetheless.
Back not necessarily straight, but stoic.
Not necessarily winning, but not losing
this war that’s been waging since the start.
I can’t be held prisoner in a place
I can’t find and I can’t find it until
I know what to call it and so for
now I am safe in this mirror.