Injamam Eram

April 12, 2000 - Dhaka
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Mirror, Please Be Kind

I usually avoid looking in the mirror,
As it reminds me of the duality that I nurture.
While my reflection constantly agonizes,
Here, I try hard to come off as gentle and composed.
I comb my hair, singing old songs, preparing to present myself to the world,
But in the reflection, I see my hair reaching down to my throat, wrapping around my neck, and then choking me,
Muting all the voices I want to make.
My eyes drip blood that flows right into my mouth, making me gallop in all my sadness,
And I selectively hide.
I am always short of words to explain my melancholy,
Yet the reflection constantly seems to word me down.
I feel weary, nauseated, exhausted,
But for the sake of the world, I crook my teeth and make the brightest of grins.
I can see an owl attempting to nest in my skull.
Its beak keeps nibbling,
And its ominous hoots terrorize me.
I see the colors in my wearables slowly wash away and become nonexistent,
Leaving me there, alone, exposed, naked, and vulnerable.
I fear facing myself in the eye,
Thus, I'm ever reluctant to look.

But there's a limit to how long I can extend avoiding the mirror,
For the sake of the world, I must look.
So, I comply.
And each time I look, anguish follows,
And I find myself saying meekly, in a defeated tone,
"Mirror, just for today, please be kind."
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