The Other, Me

Semi-exaggerated reflection of self.

The sound of her haughty heels

Clicking against forgotten hardwood floors

Sends misplaced echoes to bounce upon the piss-colored walls

Her sleek lacquered nails, coated candy-apple-red

Dance deftly across the hard plastic surface

Of a small compact device which holds her soul hostage

 

She has become a showcase

Arrogance her partner in crime

She believes everyone is watching

But so little does she know

It's either everyone...

...Or no one at all

 

Glossing her lips for the hundredth time

She sends herself delicate kisses of vanity

Slowly falling in love again

With the beautiful face in the mirror

She looks familiar, yet foreign...

For she is me, and I am her...

 

We are one.

 

Reviews

[Deranged Kiwi]

I wrote this as I was actually taking out the garbage. I had been to lazy to go into my room and get my sneakers so I decided to borrow my mother's heels. ...Everything else was quiet, hence, the sound of the heel were seemingly misplaced.