I gaze, unable to tear

myself away. Time goes by

bringing each flaw

blindingly to the surface:

Acne. Stretch marks. Fat barely

hidden beneath loose clothes.

You’re hideous! No, repulsive! Proportions

are all WRONG! I don’t deny what

is seen so clearly. Hey remember

that time someone thought you were

pregnant? Humiliating right?

I’ll suck in my gut; hope they can’t tell.

I force myself to focus

on my eyes. Those are okay.

A nice greenish grey. Hey. Check out those circles

under your eyes. Sleep much?

I keep staring. My body

morphs. Why is there stubble

on your chin? You just shaved!

Speaking of chins, think you’ll have three

when you’re thirty?

I want to look away,

to hide from the world,

but I can’t.

I won’t.

My hobbies await me:

a hundred unread books;

a thousand more to discover

games not played;

beaches still to visit.

“Double chin? Makes my face

rounder. A gut? Good food!

Thunder thighs? Thor would be

impressed! Persistent stubble?

HAIR REMOVAL!!!”

I shout at my reflection

and allow myself to cry.

You’re ugly when you do that.

“Aren’t we all?”

I’ll repeat these daily if

I must. I won’t stop

until there’s a smile

when I look into the mirror.