Stigmata

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Why does the person I see not resemble me at all?

Tis not my face, not my lips, not my chin…

Where are the scars I remember from when…

That’s not my nose, not my skin, not my ears,

But within those eyes, I see the same fears.

A perfect reflection, of desires & rejections.

An identical image of personality,

The same mental scars, wounds & formalities

A flawless twin, from deep within

No words, no explanation

The same fight, same pride

Physically, visually- opposite

Yet a perfected mirrored projection of my mind.