In the bathroom, I observe my reflection and I see the freckles that only certain rays of the sun can catch, I see my hair that always dances between glitter and carelessness, I see death in the brown of my eyes and I wait for the stretch of my lips until my mind remembers how to fake life.

I press my nails against the raw flesh of my hips and I smile until my veins burn, I smile until my knees tremble under the weight of so much ignorance. 

I remain like a statue in front of the mirror, in a challenge of gazes, using different masks for the lips to make their trick, so the freckles form a bridge of the sadness buried in my cheekbones and so I can see the stars in my eyes. 

The teeth are bathed in blood, the lungs are breaking in the control of my breath but still, I persist, I still push every corner of my lips to their meeting point. 

Hoping that my soul catches the happiness that I can no longer call my own.

TA.