Here I go again
Looking in the mirror makes my own  heart shutter
It's like being porcelain but without the doll
Without the war paint, without the lip stain
I just look sick, just bones after all.
I glide on the tar black lines
With a flick of the wrist I become awake
I become focused, I become defined
But this is something I have to make.
Even then I look away
Not satisfied with my lacking appearance
Lacking brightness, lacking confidence.
Clearly having no brilliance.
I sigh
I leave
I tried.