Reflection

I look at myself in the mirror and only see a monster.

I see the fat that sticks off of my stomach; what am I? Pregnant?!

I see the stretch marks that line my legs, I must be fat.

I examine my face, cheeks too fat, and nose not rounded enough.

When I think of what caused this pain I can vividly look back on it now, the childhood years I had,

the bullies,

the assaults,

the sadness.

Yet when I look in the mirror I can find someone who has survived even if they lost a part of themselves along the way.

I refocus on my reflection, I trace the scars that run across my thighs and wrists, I hold myself a little tighter.

It would be so easy to reach over and end it all.

In a painful, but quick second I could end the suffering, end my pain and sadness.

Yet I don’t, I just keep looking at myself, finding more problems with myself.

My breasts, couldn’t I cut them off. My reproductive organs, were they ever supposed to be there?

I become too focused and lose touch with the world, I only thinking of waking up to realize that this is just a nightmare; that I’ll wake up in the right body, with a better mind, and a better life.

 

What is it that your reflection tells you?

This poem is about: 
Me

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