On my way out the door,
I pause with one leg in the air
to tie my shoelace- I wouldn’t
want to trip on my way out.

As my leg touches the ground,
I peer up at the mirror
to my right- suddenly, I’m

This isn’t my first time
being sucked into my own
pupils in my reflection-
this isn’t my first time
yearning to find that
person looking back
at me in the mirror.

On nights spent glaring
up at ceilings, and on
days spent staring down
the floor two feet ahead
of my next step,
I cannot see the ceiling,
nor do I perceive the floor.

It’s a sensation-
a phenomenon-
which is hard to explain;
I peer into mirrors
again and again.

I need to stop
searching for me inside
anybody but myself-
I’m confident I’ll find me,
my reflection can tell.