Eyes in the Mirror

Five feet and one inch above the floor,
Large grey-green eyes stare into mine from the mirror.
They are framed by shaggy bangs of curly golden hair
And preside over an overly pronounced canine tooth,
Wishing it were sharper...
I know I am seeing something, but is it me?

There's a girl there, a perfectionist,
An eternal overachiever...
Anger locked away.
I can see in her eyes that she will never let it out the way others do...
There is nobody quite like her and she knows it.
She is confident in what skills she has,
Does not doubt that she is gifted... but she is not proud.
She knows from Whom it all came...
She is there and she is solitary.
Is she me?

She wants to learn Japanese and she wants to be a voice actress.
There are things emblazoned on her soul that she wants to erase,
And others she holds more precious than her very life...
After all, how valuable is life in itself?
If she's obsessed with photosynthesis and Japanese culture,
Does she know it? And does she care?
She has always wanted to fly, without the aid of airplanes or wings... just fly...
She used to want it so badly it hurt...
But she got older and so did her dreams.
I know everything about her. Yet...

There are friends she could easily spend months with
And others she can barely spend the lunch period with....
But they are her friends, and she would never willingly hurt any of them.
She is Fire, fed by Wood, and people who put a period in Dr Pepper annoy her,
But not as much people with bad grammar and spelling do.
Air-conditioning and comforters, in that order, are the keys to civilisation.
She spells everything the UK way for no reason apparent to even herself.
The full moonlight shining onto the floor through her window
And the golden sunlight of early morning on her wall...
They are beautiful, but she has no words for their glory.

And the One who is everything to her?
She knows Him, for He created her inmost being,
And she is fearfully and wonderfully made.
Her frame was not hidden from Him when she was made in the secret place,
When she was woven together in the depths of the earth...
He has ordained for her a life, and she has accepted it.
Her face is not an illusion or a mask. Of that there is no doubt.
But is it really me people see when they stare into those eyes?
I will ask her, the next time I see her...