She Watches

She watches

you in the dressing room mirror,

suck in you stomach.

She sees you frown

as she sits on the ground,

playing with her tiny shoes.

She watches

as you primp and tuck,

crimp and stuff

and call yourself ugly.

She watches

when you receive complements

and shake your head,

refusing to agree

that you are pretty in so many ways.

She watches.

And she learns.

And all those years of watching earned,

she hates her reflection.

You tell her

she’s flawless,

and she’ll fake a smile,

knowing all the while

that a woman

is supposed to find

the beauty in everyone

but herself.

All your compliments

She won’t believe

as she primps and tucks,

crimps and stuffs.

Her tiny shoes long ago

packed and sealed.

She barrows your old pair of heels.