Self-Portrait (II)

I fix my veil and start moving away from the big mirror in my closet when my sight falls on my eyes. I discover that I look at my face no more. I am too busy to. I wonder how different it looks from the last time I closely examined it. I still have the same wide forehead but with fine lines. I frown a lot lately! My thick eyebrows stopped rising in wonder. Why nothing impresses me any more?! I skip my eyes and go to my mouth. I inherited my mother's delicate lips. I wish I had her eyes! A clever fake smile is often drawn on my mouth.

I raise my sight a bit to look at my eyes. I am one of the large group of people who would say that my eyes are lifeless. Only a few could read through them – and I am not included. It would require blind people to be able to see what is within me. I've often heard "cold!" and "ice woman!" behind my back and I smile in triumph. I remember a close friend telling me: "you are like the earth; with cold, solid crust but with burning, rich materials within." It was scary! I look deeper in my eyes and see a distant light struggling to be seen … to scream with long hidden secrets. I close my eyes and rub them hard with my hands then look again. The light is gone. Yes! They are more beautiful when they are dark and solid… safer! I still believe that light is cruel sometimes when it makes you aware of the darkness within.



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