Sometimes, I wish mirrors were never created, because the girl in the reflection seems to take liking in mocking my every move. As I brush my hair, she does the same. When I cringe at the way my hair falls upon my face, she lets out a laugh. And if I choose to apply makeup, she judges the way I applied my blush. And if I glare at her she glares back. We‘re the same person, the same “thing” but for some reason, she makes me feel so small. Sometimes, I wish mirrors were never created, never a thing. (An old prompt (and a story starter) (and there’s a certain theme, but I’m to lazy to try any harder than this (sorry )) but I wrote a poem for this ;) )