May 2020
My flesh and my thoughts
meet in the mirror.
They argue right in front of me.
Like resentful parents
picking their stories apart
as if I’m not there
waiting for a happy ending.
I am invisible.
The cursing doesn’t stop.
It only gets louder
when they come to an agreement
that this home,
the skin I walk into every day
and the mind that used to wander
with her head up
is too broken for anyone to love.
meet in the mirror.
They argue right in front of me.
Like resentful parents
picking their stories apart
as if I’m not there
waiting for a happy ending.
I am invisible.
The cursing doesn’t stop.
It only gets louder
when they come to an agreement
that this home,
the skin I walk into every day
and the mind that used to wander
with her head up
is too broken for anyone to love.
This poem is about my first toxic relationship: body image. It's terribly sad to think about how our bad experiences as teenagers leave a lasting impression because our minds, bodies, and souls are so fragile around that time. I wish I was taught how to love myself no matter who hurt me or made me feel like I wasn't enough. If I ever have children, it's definitely what I'm teaching them.
