Self

Sweat,
wet sheets stuck to sallow skin.
White light,
slices through the blinds. My room in slivers.
Morning,
coffee rich breath and that stale brain.
Mirror,
the first thing I think, first thing I'm depserate to see.
One less pound,
one more visible rib, yellowing teeth.
I wake to see,
a signifigantly smaller me.
Fast forward,
8 months pass and my bed is cooler now.
Same light,
illuminates the darkest corners of my skull.
Flowers,
they bloom where they used to wilt.
The morning,
feeds the emptiest parts of me,
fills me up, fixes me.
Mirror,
no longer an enemy, with sharper lines and
broader hips,
I wake to see a bolder me.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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