Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nidhi Jaiswal Aug 2020
When i see mirror
I feel that
No one understand me
Except my image on the mirror.

The short line is filled with a great message of my heart,i never think to be good one in front of others. but i'm like that who wants understands everyone but me not by anyone..one and only my image understands me.
Thanks for reading.
I used to say;

Every inch of my body is flawed.

My arms are the misspelling of words everyone expects you to know;

My stomach is the lucky lottery numbers of addicts and the poor;

My legs are rivers that flow endlessly, but flood all that dares live next to its edges. The water pours over and into the houses of strangers like it was always meant to be there. Only to wash away lives and leave destruction.

The freckles on my skin etch a pattern ‘ugly’ as delicate as Charlottes webs, only these designs were never meant to save the girl. They were meant to break her.

A story of hatred is told on my face, one of a torn castle and all in its wake. The royalty inside have all faded away, and the beauty I once saw could no longer stay.

Every inch of my body is flawed, but these misspelling arms take comfort in temporary words.

-S.D.F
Michael R Burch Jul 2020
Reflections
by Michael R. Burch

I am her mirror.
I say she is kind,
lovely, breathtaking.
She screams that I’m blind.

I show her her beauty,
her brilliance and compassion.
She refuses to believe me,
for that’s the latest fashion.

She storms and she rages;
she dissolves into tears
while envious Angels
are, by God, her only Peers.

Keywords/Tags: reflection, mirror, image, anorexia, bulimia, cutting, reflections, self-image, self-worth, self-criticism, self-shaming, mrbref
If gods don't bleed then I know for sure that I am man.
I know just as well how to stitch above that alleged red, so that what you think you've seen,
I will remain immortal, towering over kings.
Hannah Christina Jun 2020
I am stamped with an image I can not comprehend.
10 word
Vaampyrae Jun 2020
not to please you

I cut my hair short not to hear you say
“Why’d you cut it? It was way better before.”

I cut my hair short not because
I wanted to be a man, nor be deemed ‘manly’

I cut my hair short because I love it and I own it
and I don’t give a **** about what you say because

I am absolutely proud of it
I swear, if I get enother comment about my hair I’m gonna explode. Why do people care so much about how we look? I’m not harming anybody looking this way, and others too. We can look whatever the **** we want to, without fearing anyone’s judgment.

We’re always too short, too tall, too fat, too thin, too girly, too manly, too try hard, too ugly, too dark, too fair, too brash-looking, or too boring for this society. We can never please this society, so might as well be proud of how carry ourselves everyday.

This is the only body we have. Love it.
x May 2020
it's so tiring,
this back and forth in my brain.

i want to be better.
i want to be content
just as i am.
i want to be able to exhale,
relax
and shut out the voices that tell me otherwise.
but they overpower me.

"my stomach looks good today",
"my legs aren't huge",
"i'm not ugly",
i try to say as my hands tell a different story.
grabbing at fat and skin,
trying to find any imperfection to prove me wrong.
and this is where the confusion starts:
looking in the mirror.

what do i look like?
how should i feel?
am i actually fat?
am i deluded to think i might not be?
i have no idea the answer to any of those questions
and millions just like them scream at me.
every minute.
every day.

if i am fat,
should i be trying to lose weight?
or should i try to accept how i look?

i try to be better,
to cope,
but i don't know which voice is right.
i don't know who to listen to.
and i'm trapped in this in between.

it's ******* exhausting so someone just tell me what to do
I needed to get these thoughts out of my head and onto a page
Dandy May 2020
He pointed at the curve where my mass should be.
The skinny line wherein the whole of my being should fit--
based on what a man in a lab coat said once.
He dashed a tiny spec above it, where I was.
Out of line.
Not fitting in.
Against the rules.
I counted the tiny squares that separated me from my belonging...
… one... two... three...
Three squares from worthiness.
Three squares wrong.
Three squares from deserving love.
Three squares from good enough.
I stared at that dot a man drew for me and discovered brokenness.
I was five.
Next page