Writing Prompt

Fuck this shit. What the fuck is going on. While I try and practice gracefulness, gratefulness, patience and a constant seeking of knowledge and learning, fall short sometimes.

Days go by, however, I try to stay present. Wake up and go get it because capitalism is all we’ve known. We were given this world, we didn’t make it man. So, I rise and move like a dying butterfly, still alive flying colo...

I walk into the gloomy, mysterious shop as I look around for the strange lady. I had accidentaly bumped into her the other day and she gave me a card with an adress on it, and somehow she knew my name. This interaction had me curious as to what this location was. The room is a velvet red all around with all sorts of trinkets and doo-dads on the walls and shelves. There were bottles of various item...

When I look in the mirror, I have to focus on my reflection. The demons of my past dance in the shadows around me. They beckon me to lean closer, to reach out and take their hand. I feel them brush against my skin. I turn to see but they are gone. I shiver uncontrollably, knowing if I look again they’ll be there to haunt me. Always in the shadows of my reality.

I cover the mirror with the black ...

When I look in the mirror, I see someone who looks like the person I appear to be. The person I am in pictures. The person others see. For some reason, this person doesn’t look like me. Like my soul, like my heart. Like what I love and who I am. Her eyes don’t capture the depth of my perspective. Her hair doesn’t curl with my authentic creativity. Her nose can’t smell the true intentions of others...

The fog hung heavy on May 20th, clinging to everything in its path. I was staring out the kitchen window when a glint of light caught my eye. It seemed to be coming from the far end of the yard, reflecting off something I couldn't quite make out. A shiver of curiosity, mixed with a strange sense of foreboding, ran down my spine. I pulled on my jacket and crept out into the night, the damp grass mu...

When I was a child, I used the mirror for fun. I remember leaning half of my face into the door's mirror, which made the other half reflect and create a whole unfamiliar face. Other family members was laughing.

Now; When I look in the mirror, I pray, 'O Allah, please refine my character and my inner beauty as You have made me and every human in the most excellent image among all creatures in the ...

Mirrors are reflective. That’s a fact, everyone knows it. For it to not be true would be considered a lie. Something inaccurate. Something unproven because everyone sees themselves in a mirror.

Which is why as a child I stopped telling everyone I couldn’t.

I’m unsure as to why. I should be able to see myself. Everyone else can see _me_ in a mirror, yet I never show up to myself. Not right at lea...

* authors note: this is a poem inspired by the title the prompt gave and not the picture, loves💜🩵💙

When I look in the mirror

A girl looks back at me

She has my face

She has my body

She has my eyes

And she has my nose

But she has seen and heard

More than I’ll ever know

She is my reflection

The person who knows me best

Who knows me better than

Even me

But me and my reflection

Are not the s...

I look in the mirror a I hate what I see. Not just the bed head or the bed breath or the pores but I hate everything to the point it makes me want to vomit. Unfortunately I’m not looking into the mirrors like in Cinderella where my fairy godmother could come out and make me into something I wow t to see. I hate you…...

They say breaking a mirror is bad luck. But is it? This must be the third mirror this month. My knuckles bleed every time, yet I can’t seem to get myself a bandaid. Because what is in that mirror is horrendous. It’s devastating.

“Come on, Mary, for the last time. There’s no blood there.”

I’ve been sleeping until 3:00am every morning. I’m not sure why. It’s calling me.

It’s all just so bloody.

...