Weren’t you the first one who didn’t see me? Yes, yes, it was you. I moved, you didn’t see me; I stood still, you still didn’t see me. I spoke, you didn’t hear me; I fell silent, you didn’t notice.
I fell, I was in pain, I ran to you, but you weren’t there. It wasn’t the warmth of your tenderness, but the coldness of your anger in your touch. Nothing I did worked, you didn’t see me, Mum! Yet I always saw you; your loneliness, your unhappiness, your weariness, your exhaustion… And I always stood by your side.
What was it that you were so afraid to see that you never once looked at me? Because you didn’t see me, I became invisible, believing ghosts were watching over me to convince myself of my own existence. I left because I was invisible; I left to become visible. I got lost whilst searching for the way home, and I grew weary. How could I have known that I would find myself in that little mirror you gave me?