Mirrors By: Lyra Fay
It tells you to look perfect.
It tells you that you look hideous.
It tells you that you are nothing.
It tells you to straighten your back, straighten your hair, and put on makeup.
It tells you that you will never be as pretty as the others.
It tells you to be perfect—then they will adore you.
It tells you to be exactly like it says.
Is it really that hard to follow?
I am hurt by the reflection of myself.
I am hurt by the longing to be beautiful.
I am hurt by what it shows me—my nonexistent self.
I am damaged by the creature that it shows me.
I wish to be normal —not constantly stuck in a world of beauty.
Is that really so hard?
I wish that my mirror would give up on telling me who I am.
Isabelle Whiteside