As I look into the mirror,
I am puzzled by my face.
I am confused by the similarities,
It makes me feel somehow off base.

The mirror always tells a true story,
Yet the person in the mirror is not the same.
It is like the same familiar body is inhabited,
By an intruder who suddenly made me lame.

Do you think that one can somehow become two?
I can remember when the mirror showed only one.
But there is constant awareness of this intruder,
That goes with me no matter how fast I run.

It is not that I am frightened by the intruder,
But I am frustrated by the things she cannot do.
But then I look in the mirror, any mirror,
And the mirror says “Yes it is really you.”

The intruder came suddenly and gave me no choice.
Maybe I am indignant the intruder came at my cost.
I wonder if there had been an invitation,
If the intruder could make me aware of all that I’ve lost.

Yes, I think if I could forgive the lack of invitation,
The two may one day successfully become one.
I should know once I’m able to look in the mirror,
And am able to see that the transition is finally done.

by: Debbie M. Wilson

Read more of Debbie M. Wilson’s poetry at Debbie’s Place

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