I painted smiles on all my faces, Learned the lines they wanted me to say, Changed my voice to fill their spaces, Told myself I’m fine that way. Every glance became performance, Every flaw is a crime to hide, And every time I met my own eyes, Something in me slowly died. Glass can lie, but it remembers, The girl I buried still pretends her— Strings on my shoulders, Words in my mouth, I move when they pull, I don’t make a sound. (If I break), Will they see me? (If I cry), Will they call? I’m not your reflection — I’m just a mirror doll. They loved the way I shimmered softly, Like porcelain lit by pain, But no one asked who stood behind her, Or if she knew her name. I danced until the cracks showed through me, Still smiled when I would fall, ‘Cause beauty only means something When you don’t feel real at all. Glass can cut the hands that hold you, But I still reach when someone told you— [spoken/whispered - echoed reverb, soft breaths] "Mom, I think I forgot how to be me… But everyone says I’m beautiful this way. Do they see me, or just the glass?" Underneath the painted shine, There’s a pulse that still is mine, A trembling hand behind the wall — I want to live, not just recall. Strings fall away now, Voice breaking out, I’m done being silent, I’m done with the doubt. If I break, I’ll be free — If I fall, I’ll still crawl. I’m not your reflection — I was never your fucking doll. Mirror cracks, and I exhale, A thousand shards become my veil. And in their light, I finally see — The girl inside was always me.
