Standing in front of the shimmering surface,
I see shards of gleaming light,
I play with my necklace for the umpteenth time
Rehashing the ongoing fight,
I have been living with for so long.
Her she is, in all her dampening glory,
Standing eye to eye with me,
She stares and tears me down,
All the imperfections she can see,
And then she shakes her head.
‘What now,’ I think wearily,
‘Who is she to say those things,
To rip apart my dreams and hopes,
And cast down my willowy wings,
Just for the pleasure of it all.’
I stare in those piercing green eyes,
She glances casually back,
Her words cut and slice my skin,
Like sharp razors on my back
With nothing to heal my open wound.
She looks so familiar yet distant,
She has tortured me all these years,
She coolly glides from fault to fault,
And ignores my pain and tears,
Yet she still reminds me of someone.
I move closer to see what I can,
Too much time has come to pass,
Her movements seem to mirror mine,
Then my stunned face hits the glass,
And I see her for who she is.
I gasp in horror and confusion,
She does exactly the same,
Why this girl shares my body,
My heart, my face even my name,
Why, this critic is really me.
All these years of hurtful words,
My critic has been shown,
To be the one I trusted most,
Except I had ever known,
All the damage I could do.
We cry tears mingled with remorse,
And a sense of relief,
We have forgiven each other,
For the feelings of our grief,
And we have moved on.
We accept us for who we are,
No thoughts of scrutiny are found,
Although she is not perfect,
Nor I, we follow the sound,
Of light laughter and happy endings.
I visit my critic every morning,
She shares a thoughtful smile,
Who would have thought this one,
Was my best friend all the while,
And we could ever be so close.
She remains in the shards,
Of the world of endless gleam,
Now in those green eyes,
I see a glowing, warm beam
Of kindness, friendship and acceptance.
Loads of Love,