Mirrors
Tall, skinny dark.
take one glance and look away from me.
Ugly, useless, stupid.
I wish I could walk away.
Crooked-yellow smiles in the shattered mirror in front of me.
Only I can see that it's broken.
Nothing, worthless, idiot.
Echoes float from my childhood into the present.
Volume's raising, like cuts from the shards of a broken mirror chiming against the tile floor.
A mocking sing song tone.
Unable to see the light through her dark skin due to the daily messages she receives.
You can't escape yourself.
"Always remember children the light is good and the dark is bad."
Discrimination is a daily practice.
Monkey, hoe, nigga, slut.
Don't worry bout me i'm just trying to find comfort through this thick curtain of depression,
wavering the possibility of a healthy future, and becoming another jammed door in this maze that is becoming harder and harder to get to the end of everyday.
I do not say these things. I have yet to even mention to those that are closest to me for pity or excuses. I do not wish to be a bother. This is but the beginning of my story. Yes it does take place in a mirror, but i will not let a mere piece of glass define me and take away my success.
I no longer rely on the opinion of others to create my image.
slowly, I am getting better.
Most days than before I can look and the image that stares back won't be revolting.
but at times, i still feel the urge to cover all the mirrors that decorate walls, or anything that has the ability to reflect how i see myself.
this strangely does not bother me.
