Funhouse Mirrors
I saw me as you saw me
and then there were the ones who came after.
When I was raised
projected on hate
cracked mirrors formed
the foundation.
Now most of the time,
I get myself by.
Surrounded by grace and by love.
But then come the days,
When my reflection gets met
by someone’s projection
of disdain or rejection
and it feels like the old
mirror’s won.
And all adult parts collapse to the floor,
And I can’t help but wonder if-
I’ve just fooled myself? The world?
into thinking I’m anything good.
The first mirror feels the truest because it’s the one I took on
as myself.
Then shame has its way.
I collapse into the day.
And my tenderest parts
Weep.
Hold me.
Hold me.
Hold me.
And so I do.
I will love her,
that face in the cracked bloody mirror,
until she knows a new
truth.
This is what it feels like to live with and heal CPTSD
XO Christina ❤️
