The last time I saw my face looking into the mirror I knew there was going to be a journey of change. Paled in every thought, encircling my face in the mirror. Pinching my face as if each pinch would add color to a face I saw as drawn, gaunt and pale, where fear of my mother grabbing my mouth. This perhaps was the reverse side of my coin, taking control of my cheeks where I was going to have my tooth extracted from years of dental work and memories of trauma of not being allowed to talk.
