Defining Features

I sat in front of the mirror, simply studying the features of my face. The ever present scarlet tinge seemed even redder here, in my room, with the sun shining throungh the uncharacteristically open window. The Autumn air, pungent with the smell of burnt leaves, blows in on a soft chilling breeze. But all I can fathom in that moment is,of all things, that I have my father's nose. That, even though he is someone I barely know, my features echo his own. And then, as I sat there for at least an hour more, it dawned on me- I have no idea which features were born from my mother's genes.

Maybe, its the structure- high cheekbones, fuller cheeks, perhaps even my jaw mirrors hers. The forehead, perfect for when I pull back my hair,out of my eyes- confidently displaying my mismatched face. The face of an unwanted. The face of the easily forgotten. And I wonder if hers if the face that I built mine on. Yet, I do not really know. But, my eyes, they are not my own. They are mine,yes of course, obviously, but only because they were someone else's first.Were they Hers?

And, I find,in all this pondering, that I'm really tired of being a follower.

All I want is to have something all to my own. Singing,dancing,acting, writing, my love, my hope- I share it all. I have no choice in my sharing of the things I love. I never have.There is a tingling,there, in the pit of my stomach. A stirring where no emotion has ever lived before. The trepidation,anticipation, the anxiety palpable.I see you walk in and my thoughts fumble but continue. My mind begins reeling, almost hyperventilating its overwhelming need to have a silent throne- and I feel as if there is no place for which I myself can only claim to have,no place at all  to call my own. I need my sanctuary, I crave a safe place to rest my heart. A place where I am the Founding Father, where I write the Constitution of Hope on gray,battered walls in black, pulsing ink. Commemorating the very moment I was set free- Oh!How I desire a chance to be my own, and no one else's.

I long for the day when I belong to no one, when I can leave here- set out, find my own wealth of gold at the end of the rainbow. But today, I am sitting in my room, watching the change in the lines of my face- just silently watching myself watch you. Today, the wind blows in, sending papers and pictures and thoughts flying into disarray. And, today I still crave you, just as I did yesterday, and the hundred yesterdays before that-  craving you enough for your touch-your touch,love, yours- to make me forget that I belong to anyone and everyone, but myself.Enough for me to stop thinking of all the times you left me because i wasn't what you wanted, all the times I didn't fit into what your were forcing yourself to be. Enough for me to ignore the wandering thought of who you are, and what features define you. Oh, just enough to not think of all the claims laid upon me. To just be.To feel,think, live in just this small, already passing,moment. Enough to make me only think of you,today.

Tomorrow-well, tomorrow will be another day. One that you more than likely will invade, and take captive, because you captivate me, intrigue me, own me. You own me, and I think you know it. My face just doesn't show the sheer proof of it.

The End

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