One Word: Perfect - a reflection

My reflection grins up at me.

We are alike, yet she is distorted by the water's surface;

Her face ripples in and out of view.

When I force a smile, hers becomes real.

When I succumb to inner sadness

She seems to find the light in life, and hide it from me,

Beneath the river's surface.

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She is perfection.

Perhaps I am the reflection

Of her, a monster in her skin,

Who knows no affection.

Where her family stands beside her, I am alone.

Where she succeeds, I fail, and she always does succeed.

I pretend to be her, sometimes, pretend that I am perfect, like her.

I wear her smile like a mask, as if it's protection

from the infection that is destroying me from the inside out -

The quiet knowledge that I will never achieve perfection,

That I will never be her.

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When I was young, I imagined us alike,

The same, even.

When I was young, I didn't know how different

Me and my reflection would become.

She is what others see; carefully curated perfect perfection.

I am not her.

She is not me.

I stare into the river,701Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf6288paIsF

Notice how very deep it is, just how far down it goes.

She glares up at me, insistent that she gets her way.

What have I to lose anymore? When I've already lost my world?

She stares up at me, and her smile has fallen.

I fall too.

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Perfection is a funny thing, really.

Is perfection a simple reflection, like I had come to believe?

Is being 'perfect' really worth it?

Is it worth years spent underwater, searching blindly for it?

I reflect.

Maybe she and I were not so different

After all.

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