Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereIn the fleeting moments just before your gaze
falls upon your reflection, your mind fills in
it's picture of you. For your sub-conscience
knows well what you look like.
Oh, you will see the errant curl out of place,
or the small flake of mascara fallen from your
lash to your cheek, but you will largely ignore
the rest, because your mind is in charge.
Now, let us imagine an accident. A careless act of another, or perhaps a less tragic circumstance which none the less alters the image. Whether it is a scar or simply changed feature matters not.
Your mind steadfastly holds onto the image it knows. So now, each time your gaze falls on your reflection, you are startled anew, for the image in the mirror is no longer your own. No longer "You".
How long will it take before your mind accepts this new reflection? How long before it stops torturing with it's refusal of compliance to the new form? How unfair, that our memory does not serve us as we wish it would.
All anyone could hope for would be the ability to ignore the scar,or gracefully accept the change. How many people will comment on your beauty before your mind agrees? Are you not guilty of telling the ugly duckling a lie to bring a smile?
And your mind knows this as well, and so, refuses to believe. Cur-sed mind with it's memory! Let me be in peace with my imposed imperfections. Let me believe the lie is not really a lie at all... as I did before, so blissfully unaware.
or the minds blind spot, survival tool or just vanity!?
Some questions just don't have an answer.
But if you write a poem and it makes you wonder about your world then its a poem that has effected you and it did.