Mirror of Myself When I look at the reflection in the mirror, I see a short and not well- proportioned figure. Her hair is soft and silky, her face young yet wise. When I look at the reflection of her soul, I see strength. Sometimes she is my mentor and other times I am disheartened by her actions. I have seen her raw emotions, flailing like a wailing child. She confided in me once that she had been struggling to overcome a daily drug habit. A sense of power emanated from her as she spoke and I knew she was determined for a new beginning. Having thought back on her history of drug use, she told me she had been an addict sinc