Dear Me, I See You

I’m looking in the mirror. I see you, my inanimate twin.

I see the slight circles under your eyes, that vary depending on the sleep you’ve had.
I see the two little scars above your jaw, stubborn remnants of childhood chickenpox.
I imagine I see tiny lines around the eyes, waiting to begin.
I see wavy hair, now subtly two-toned from the most recent foray into a new hair colour.
I see makeup where I accentuate and emphasise, never concealing.

I see someone who is in-between.
No longer a child or teenager;
Still a student, but now leaning towards the end of study and the start of Working.

I see you as you are now.
You are never the same from one reflection to the next.

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