The mirror is not my friend today,
just like it wasn't last week.
The reflection I see when my eyes peer in
makes me cringe with each sob,
showing a person I'm not sure I remember,
or one that I don't really want to.

"Not today!" I plead with what I see.
"I promised I would try harder!"
Yet that girl stares back,
disfigured and worn. Imperfection
reflected in the smudged glass
I can't look away from each morning.

Her eyes are too down-turned,
dripping pain down her face.
Her nose - too large - a flaw
she got from her grandpa.
Her shoulders - too broad - hold
her head too low, and her
thick arms she got from her mom.

Too small lips, a pointy chin,
and a wide forehead besides.
Two *******, scrutinized, on her chest:
sag from nursing two babes.
A dimpled stomach, with a wide placed scar,
usually camouflaged with lumpy clothing.

A pinch of fat here, dinner
skipped will make her feel a bit better.
Boxes of rouge to define what she can.
Necessary changes, needed to feel right -
Hours spent trying to fix what I can't.
Beauty hidden behind the reflection,
someone I won't ever meet.

"I tried." I whisper to the empty space.
"I'll never see what they see."
She turns her back to me,
the reflection no longer staring back.
Try again tomorrow, I'm reminded.
Maybe then I can leave my home.