perhaps the most forlorn thing this world holds
looking at myself, seeing those who hurt me the most reflected in my face

Is it harder to love yourself when you have your mothers eyes?
Perhaps. But they are not your eyes, they belong to me, my own unique trench of blue and green
we'll say that they are from my Greek Grandfather, as he did not have the chance to make me want to look like someone different

the only power you have over me anymore is when I look in the mirror