When I look in the mirror,
I don’t see what they see.
They say I’m cute,
beautiful,
good looking
but none of that ever felt like me.
I wasn’t like this before.
As a kid, I never questioned my reflection,
never measured my worth
by the shape of my face
or the size of my waist.
But somewhere along the way,
the world made me doubt.
The older I get,
the more I shrink into shadows
of what I think I should be.
Pretty, but not enough.
Desired, but only if I fit
some picture perfect fantasy
they scroll past
and save to their dreams.
They say looks don’t matter,
but their eyes speak first
long before their mouths ever do.
And I’m tired.
Tired of pretending I don’t notice.
Tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt.
My brother’s voice still echoes
She’s not worth the wait.
When I look in the mirror,
I don’t see what they see.
They say I’m cute,
beautiful,
good looking
but none of that ever felt like me.
I wasn’t like this before.
As a kid, I never questioned my reflection,
never measured my worth
by the shape of my face
or the size of my waist.
But somewhere along the way,
the world made me doubt.
The older I get,
the more I shrink into shadows
of what I think I should be.
Pretty but not enough.
Desired but only if I fit
some picture perfect fantasy
they scroll past
and save to their dreams.
They say looks don’t matter,
but their eyes speak first
long before their mouths ever do.
And I’m tired.
Tired of pretending I don’t notice.
Tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt.
My brother’s voice still echoes
She’s not worth the wait.
Ugly.
Words not meant for me to hear,
but now I carry them
like a bruise beneath my skin.
Even makeup can’t cover that.
I straighten my hair,
dress like I’m trying to matter,
smile like I’m confident.
But inside I still feel unseen.
Still feel less.
My ex warned me:
If you gain more weight, I’ll leave.
As if love had a number,
as if my worth was on a scale.
He gained weight too,
but I guess his mirror
was more forgiving than mine.
He’s gone.
But the damage stayed.
Now, when old crushes reach out,
I disappear.
I’m busy.
I’m out of town.
But really,
I’m just hiding
waiting for a version of me
that feels lovable enough
to show up.
I tell myself:
One day, when I fix my body,
when I become beautiful,
then maybe
I’ll let someone see me again.
Maybe
I’ll finally see me too.
Ugly.
Words not meant for me to hear,
but now I carry them
like a bruise beneath my skin.
Even makeup can’t cover that.
I straighten my hair,
dress like I’m trying to matter,
smile like I’m confident.
But inside I still feel unseen.
Still feel less.
My ex warned me:
If you gain more weight, I’ll leave.
As if love had a number,
as if my worth was on a scale.
He gained weight too,
but I guess his mirror
was more forgiving than mine.
He’s gone.
But the damage stayed.
Now, when old crushes reach out,
I disappear.
I’m busy.
I’m out of town.
But really,
I’m just hiding
waiting for a version of me
that feels lovable enough
to show up.
I tell myself
One day, when I fix my body,
when I become beautiful,
then maybe
I’ll let someone see me again.
Maybe
I’ll finally see me too.
10:19 pm, I took a walk with my dog to think about how I was feeling tonight. This is what I was feeling and it turned into a poem so I think.
