Standing in front of the mirror,
I love the girl staring back at me from behind the glass.
Every flaw and ounce of fat,
I love the girl whose eyes meet mine.
She cheers me up
And reminds me that I am still beautiful
When I feel the opposite.
She can speak (some) Spanish.
She knows how to read,
She can paint,
And sing, although poorly.
And her voice echoes through space.
She has presence when she enters a room.
She fears nothing,
She feels less than,
Silent voices crawl throughout the chambers of her mind,
And tell her to be mute
To shrink herself.
They tell her she does not deserve to make noise.
And because of them, she sits.
And she thinks.
Speaking only when asked to.
And wishing for more.