My Fake Face

I stand at the Scandinavian mirror
hung on the door
eye’s sealed as I wipe my face
unadorned, colour removed.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes
my reflection mirrored back to me.

I see my true self.

Unshed tears cloud my vision
slowly they wash my face
the cooling streams of tears release my emotions
Beauty removed, pretty no more.

I slam the door closed
hearing a shatter of glass
I open the door to see my broken mirror
dropping to the floor
I curl in to a ball.

My black tears stain
I now look like a mime.

I hear a slam.
“Tara”
“yep just getting changed mum”
I wipe my face and tears.

Once more I put on my fake face.