The mirror reflects
what I see in myself.
Every scar, every tear,
every solemn let down.

It also reflects,
just how special I am.
Nothing special is ugly,
nothing special is bland.

Like a handful of sands,
we stand proud in the wake.
Moving through such reflections,
to uphold what we make.

Out of life, out of love.
Can it possibly be?
That the girl in the mirror,
loves the girl that is me.