Julie's Poems

the girl in the mirror

"i hate myself" my friend giggles at her nails bitten down to the nub.

she expects me to laugh with her.
i do.
and reassure with a "same!"
showing my equally horrid nails.
we laugh more.
Because who could possible hate
Themselves?
her genuine laugh covers
my fake one.

she doesn't notice
i'm completely serious.
the only joke was
thinking i was talking about
my nails.
i don't remember a time
where i looked at girl in the mirror
and liked her.

her nose,
too flat,
her eyes,
too small,
her hair,
too messy,
her thighs,
too big.

clothes didn't fit
quite right.
she didn't fit
quite right.

always too big,
too awkward.
hands of boys would drown in hers.
waist that arms refused to go around.
and breast meant for women,
were cursed on a girl.

she tried to love
herself.
she really did.
but she couldn't shake
the feeling,
that everyone hated her
too.

we even tried to fix her.
for a while the fixing
made things worse.
wires in her smile
seemed to scare away
everyone.
her hair seemed to have more phases than
the moon.
the paint she used to mask
her face
grabbed the wrong kind of attention.
even worse when she didn't
wear it.
her eating habits
frightened those around her.
but not enough for them to
not to compliment,
her shrinking waist.

when she came out
like a car at the end of a car wash
all clean and brand new.
there were those that looked
closer.
pointed our scratches and dents
the owner never noticed.
and now that's all she sees.

i don't hate myself
as much as i did.
i've eased the worry of the
girl in the mirror.
she looks different,
but sometimes feels the same.
she stopped taking request
on how she should look.
But still wonders what would happen,
if she adhere to them.

so i laugh,
at what she believes
is a ridiculous notion-
to hate one's self.
who does that?