The Girl I Used To Know

She dances as if the world doesn’t watch her. She sings as if the world doesn’t hear her. And I desperately try to be the person that she is, only to realize that she is already taken, and that I must be me. But as I watch her twirl as the world burns down, I wish that I could be that confident. I wish that I could find something within me that wouldn’t care what others thought. I wish that I wouldn’t worry all the time about how I look, how I sound, and how I feel.

The floor she dances on is barren. Covered in dust, it only provides traction for her to move her talented feet to dance even better. In the small white dress, I look through the mirror, placing my hand against the cold glass. Peering into another dimension, through the mirror at a girl I seemingly used to know. Her long brown hair that flows to her waist, twirling around her body as she spins with grace.

Who is this girl? Where did she come from?

Whatever I try in order to speak to her, it doesn’t work. She cannot hear me, but I can hear her. Perhaps this is because I am nothing but a reflection; the reflection of a life she left behind long ago. But even as I tug at my flame-like red hair, I know that it must be more than that.

Even as I blink, she’s stopped dancing and stands up across from me, on the other side of the mirror. She watches me with a strange gaze…this girl that looks so much like a doll. What I wouldn’t give to shatter the glass between our dimensions so that I could speak to her; just once. To whisper to her two words: thank you. 

But even as she turns and walks away, I feel a tear trickle down my cheek, my hand leaving the mirror and the ability to let go. Because in the end, the girl I see in the reflection…she’s me.



Something flaming this night burns bright. The light is everything I always wanted, and everything I always needed.

But it’s not enough.

For some reason I need more, I need to breathe in the flames and allow them to live within my body. These flames of passion and the sight of dancing scarlet ribbons. The heat is overwhelming, but not enough for me. I need something to hold onto, as I reach out towards my lifeline; for some strange reason, I cannot reach his fingers with mine.

Is it my fault? Have I done something? No, perhaps I’m just in the wrong place. Perhaps I need to wait, and reach for him when I’m more alone, and it’s more reverent.

This need that I sought, and the battles I’ve fought. I would do it all over again, even for the decades that have been rendered in my painful name, the one I wore with shame swearing I’d use something else so no one would know who I was. But then I studied that name, those letters, the core of which it was, and I saw light. I found myself reaching for its brightness, searching for the sun at the end of darkness that my feet began to run towards, barreling forward toward the future. Towards everything I was supposed to be, not everything I wanted to be.

And these scars that I wear are heavy, though I will stand with them upon my body and mind as if they were a feather. The crown that I hold at my fingertips is the weight of the world, but I will endure it with every word I’ve spoken in my own name, knowing that I can only be me and not anyone else.

The fear had once crawled up my spine, threatening to entwine me, but now I welcome it. I welcome its cold fingers at it wraps itself around me, for without fear there is no reality.

They say that fear is only in our minds; I say that fear is something that we can use to provoke ourselves towards our greatest destinies. And as I find myself floating toward that illuminated space, I will always love the face that I behold beyond that veil.

And as I place my fingertips against the glass of the mirror, no one will know the terror that I knew among those days, and now it fades away into a hope that I never thought I’d find again, allowing me to be reborn into the same presence I knew as a child. I am now free and wild.

And if ever again I shall lose my way, I will simply look towards the darkness behind me and know that there is light ahead of me. As I breach the veil between light and dark, there will be times of darkness, but nothing will ever compare to the light of my own hope.