I had forgotten how strong you are.
I see a girl before me,
broken and entangled;
injected by a will she didn't ask for,
intruded by a power that wasn't meant to be hers.
I had forgotten about the courage it took to rise from this place.
To wake up the next morning.
To learn to breathe again.
How had I forgotten that?
Time has made me question if it was even real
but I remember when I see you,
split in two by a choice that wasn't yours;
a living object,
a stolen prize.
I didn't see you as a huntress,
a woman looking to reclaim the rights back to the true light of her soul.
A light that had been harvested from her very core,
held captive in their memory.
I didn't see you as a tower of strength,
waking up day after day in a bed you can't get out of to make,
wondering what in this world even belonged to you anymore.
I didn't see any of this:
a shape-shifting warrior.
A goddess in trial.
All I could see was my twelve-year-old self.
And my thirteen-year-old self.
And my fourteen-year-old self.
And my fifteen-year-old self.
And my twenty-year-old self.
All I could see was you as my mirror,
and feel an earthquake rumbling
from fault lines still hidden,
even after all these years.
You are the most powerful woman in the world.
With your back straight
and jaw strong,
you still let the tears fall from your face
and collect in a heart cut wide open to me.
How did I not see you there?
How long have I not seen me?
'you are my mirror' / Jamie Homeister