Do I have to look in the mirror to recognize myself? Lingering in squint? Judging what I can’t make out from the smudges and silver?
Or do I already know? Haven’t I always?
Have I not grown tired of requiring public opinion to decide my visibility; my value and purpose?
My presence isn’t subjective: I am here.
Walking in truth; reassured.
I am the mirror. I reflect light. If unseen, I am still felt.
Even a sliver of me illuminates; projects.
Sounds exactly like what I was working on in therapy. Love you.