This is a mirror‑poem.
A self‑reckoning.
A woman looking at herself across time, across skin, across versions.
What Do You See When You Look at Me
What do you see when you look at me.
What do I see when I look at me.
The life I’ve lived. The love I have given. The youth that is gone. The skin that now sags.
What do you see when you look at me.
What do I see — me.
Me that’s gone. Me now. Me that’s to come.
From tight skin to sag.
I see life. I see lines. I see fantastic curls. I see vitality. I see self‑love.
I see the young me. I see the thirty me. I see me now.
I see clearly — I see confusion, blurred lines —
I just see a combination of me over the years, my best bits maybe.
But who do I see, the face back in the mirror — misted, but the many me’s.
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