When I look in the mirror and I see nothing,
but they visualize the world in my curves
so I go with it.

I feel degraded, but their satisfaction somehow settles my nerves
more than I’ll ever admit.

There has to be something more than this,
but instead I’m stuck in a mutated bliss
that gives me less than a pinch of confidence,
which I savor as my self-significance...

...is this all I’m worth?