Comparing Scars

Tiara

Comparing Scars by Valerie Parente

I don’t feel great when other girls talk about their pain
because I feel like I have to one-up them just to validate my struggle
and I know it’s ridiculous that I actually feel jealous
of someone else’s suffering as if it’s a form of currency
like it’s a competition of whose scar is more impressing
I feel the need to defeat her by showing a cut that’s deeper
because if I’m the one who’s talked about then maybe I’ll no longer doubt myself.

I know it’s sick and warped how much I crave to be heard
I’m longing for attention more than I long for redemption
I don’t need some comfort, all I need is to come first
some kind of stage or grand display to say my hardship wasn’t in vain
it’s not just about being different, it’s about justifying the infliction
all that I’ve carved upon myself instead of asking for some help
and I know this truth is ugly but I need to speak with honesty
because if I can’t at least be real then there’s no point to how I feel.

– Valerie Parente (5-19-2019)

 

An Inadequate Reflection

An Inadequate Reflection by Valerie Parente

From the very core of her being she illuminated every room she walked in. In her healthiest state, her effervescent energy reflected onto all that she interacted with.
Perplexingly, as she entered a room whose walls were constructed from mirrors, she could not project her inner light onto the conspicuously ideal environment. The only radiation of light transcended from her optical form, emanating onto the boundaries boxing her in. As her being translated to the sleek canvases something equally underwhelming as it was uncanny occurred. The mirrors absorbed her energy. But this energy was not the energy that regularly brightened the moods of those around her. This shallow light was purged off of the metallic surface at the exact same angle from which it entered.
She virtually saw her own image, yet her demeanor seemed like an astral projection inconsistent of her true being. Her thriving frame of mind could not be captured by the hollow frame of mirror without warping the truth along a lateral axis. Her silhouette was inverted and her essential nature was unseen. In this limiting dungeon of a room she looked to the parallel world mounted on the walls and saw not a reflection of herself but a collection of perfectly stable atoms mocking the very imperfections that shaped her existential being. Those atoms fought to mimic a material vision, a vision far less reflective of her inner light than that of her fundamental spirit. And in a strangely empty place where a shining sheet was no more than an inherently dark plane, the optical illusion of a light-bearing presence existed.
At that moment she stopped relying on the mirror for gratification.

– Valerie Parente (10-12-16)