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Is That Me
I look at my badge,
The face staring back at me –
Beautiful, poised,
Every strand in place,
The pristine uniform,
A smile big, genuine, bright,
Eyes filled with promise,
Flawless skin,
An air of giddiness.
But then I look up at the mirror –
And see something different.
Something terrifying.
The smile is gone,
Eyes hollow,
A poker face where joy once lived,
Blank, expressionless.
Eye bags,
Peeling skin,
Falling strands of hair.
The headstrong outlook
Replaced by fear,
Doubt,
Regret.
That rose-covered view –
Gone.
Years of trauma,
Years of abuse,
A fragment of what I once was.
I look at my badge –
That beautiful face,
Those beautiful thoughts –
Now distant memories.
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