Angel 11h
"Sweetheart, You lose so much weight"
"I'm fine mom, I've already ate"
Sedative words that can't extricate
Food, Is what I begun to hate.

Thin, Thin, Very Thin
Left with bones and waxen skin.
I'm famished but anxious of the kilos
Furtively eating with my eyes, Day by day this is how it goes.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, can't you see?
What you show is demising me.
Every calorie is a conflagration
Stepping into the scale a redundant vexation.

Stand upon my reflection again
A fat ass is what I see, vociferating of my brain
makes me regurgitate in so much pain.
Drops of anesthetic mainlining my soul
numbers in the scale are reigning without control.

Flesh into ebbing, turning acrimony into cuts
throwing meals, when everyone shuts
All is left is my aweary bones
Still it whispers
"Not thin enough"
Xylos 15h
I smile as I sadly approach them...
Yes, sadly
Still the smile sticks to my face,
But only on seeing them mirror it,
I wonder where they mirrored it from...
Because honestly, I'm as dim lit as my eyes,
Repelling all rays dodging their way through,
Recoiling; frolic,
As if protecting me from some threat,
Pouring me into my darkness forever.....
No light to help any mirror to make me pretend...
Breaking the glass
To further just engulf me into itself
Alone.
This is a on the spur of these moment poem,
It's unedited,
Not based on second thoughts either
hope it isn't all chaotic.☺
You know I've found that mirrors lie
when they tell you bad things
Mine tells me every day
that I'll never amount to anything.
It tells me my nose is too big
to pull of this piercing that I have
My eyes are too close together
And if you split my face in half
there is no better side
because they're equally ugly and flawed
I can picture my mirror telling me this
and leaning back to guffaw

But he's just a liar
and I've come to realize that now
because it's all the good reasons
my face would stand out in a crowd.
Staring at the girl who used to be innocent and pure,
Now just a mannequin of hated nothingness.
Dressed in the color red, a representation of love,
Now representing only that of which she lost.
The tears running down a perfect porcelain face,
Smudged makeup smeared upon its appearance.

I am beginning to realize I was nothing more than a burden, a bother, a mirror reflection.
Mocking me as my world comes crashing down,
My heart now unknown and forgotten.
The perfect picture you painted me to be was not even me at all.
Dolling me up, and puppetting me around, to follow your every will and whim.
You pressed me into this mold of a person, you taught me who I should and shouldn’t be.
So now that you’re gone, which me, is me...?
Who am I supposed to be?
You, fairytale princess,
Who looks out my mirror
Chocolate eyes, pert nose
And lips drawn in a bow.
I don’t think you
Are at all real
But I’ll sit and stare
jul 5d
My reflection stared back at me,
Saying the things I’ve yearned to hear.
For the longest time, I’ve hid myself,
Imprisoning my fear.
I was scared to be imperfect;
My reflection simply sighed.
“You are everything,” it said,
“I can see it in your eyes.”
I am in love with your reflection,
the one you refuse to see,
I am yearning to hear your song,
the one your voice deny singing.
My well-known stranger,
my learned unbeknown;
dying to accept - living in denial.
A dream
which is fated to remain
a fantasy.
He suddenly became quiet.

He didn't feel like getting any of his thoughts
out into the world anymore.
He felt that nothing mattered
and that his presence was defined
only by the clothes he wore and
not by the words that wore him out.

He started wearing shirts. Up 'til the last button.
He became numb
and all of his dumb
fears
became brave
in one instance.

No one recognized his face anymore.. for a while now. They were concentrating on other things,
and when he finally recognized the truth
that was staring at him from the mirror,
he decided to hit the "snooze" button.

He couldn't find any reason to get out of bed in the morning,
nor to go to sleep at night.
He was in limbo,
in a purgatorial state of mind,
with one foot set in irrelevance
and the other one stepping in the shit of inadequacy.

He felt weak
and small,
although he was never thin,
nor fit.

He still loved everyone and wanted more from them,
even though nobody wanted more of him.

He often felt like the screaming guy in Munch's painting
- surrounded by color, light and everyone's rear end -
Oh, what a wonderful state of mind!

He stopped setting up his alarm.
It felt useless - everything had already happened, anyhow.
His life started showing the MUTE button in the corner of his internal screen.

He suddenly became very quiet
but despite all the silence that was surrounding him NOW,
there was a lot of noise in his head.
Gray 7d
I don’t understand
I tell myself I’m pretty
But my words fall flat on the mirror I speak into.
I like my hair and my eyes
But all I can see is my nose and my lack of thighs.
I deserve better I think.
BetTer PeoPle
Through my entire life a mirror was my best friend, although I held faith in my vanity , and layed visions of humbleness to never show conceit, extra pounds or a flaw of imperfection never crossed my mind,
I was always an athlete without a failed attempt, as I knew no other way, , somehow somewhere my health took a turn for the worst, my once beautiful body, is no longer beautiful today.
Without casting a shadow or a reflection of me , inside my heart I'm still alive and Invision myself as I use to be, it rains horror over me trying to comprehend what happened to my existence why did the one thing I was so proud of have to go away. If I had one wish for myself I would wish to return my body so when I look in the mirror again I will see me. I long to walk proud again so my outside will match  my insides and make me complete.
Bad health came from nowhere and consumed me taking the one thing I was proud of all I want is to get it back to be proud again of me
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