Reflections in Gender

Looking in the mirror, I see no pane of glass, 

But silver fragments reflected in the monochromic past.

My reflection I do not see; but a myriad of strangers reflected back to me,

Their voices full of tension and stress, some of joy, some saying ‘be free’. 


My self wishes be reflected, with make-up, at least, to strip away, 

To let stress, tiredness and dysphoria, fly afar and run astray, 

So that, like a flag that all can see,

The mirror can reflect myself back to me. 


By Who not What member