Mirrors and I have a terrible relationship almost as bad as my relation to my body. I do not understand the prospect of two versions of me being there. The two versions perceive and one that Exists. I have never seen myself in the same light ever, maybe it's my dysmorphia or maybe it's all the comments that those aunties told me every time. Or maybe I just did t wanna see myself. But there are these days that the mirror doesn't show me, it shows a cute little boy in Jersey shorts, somedays I am visited by a floral nymph and sometimes I am just adored by the presence of royalty draped in skillset works.
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