"Mirror mirror on the wall...",
I whispered as I woke,
"Mirror mirror on the wall...",
I whispered as I slept.
Every day, every night,
I woke to see myself.
I slept watching myself.
A competitor to Narcissus's fixation.
I trusted it
with my worst fears,
my worst insecurities and secrets.
I put my faith in it,
for its lips were sealed.
It had shown me all.
The disgusting acne,
Those pale and chapped lips
I had grown to hate.
And my skin!
It was something I had been taught to loathe.
I despised how it would become scales,
calling out to me,
to itch it, scrape it,
and making me feel
like a fish, out of water.
As the days passed,
I noticed the mirror mocking me.
I changed the lights,
adorned the mirror- the shrine, with bulbs,
a pitiful attempt to appease it.
"Love the skin you're in".
The catchphrase bewitched me.
New bottles and tubes and false promises.
Hours spent away rubbing it in,
peeling it off,
till a rash came up,
interrupting the routine.
I stopped, only to start again.
All in front of my cruel critic.
If my mirror could talk,
it would tell you,
how I popped my acne
from the light of the moon,
how I stuck a photo
of the perfect girl on it,
and it would also tell you,
of the time it was taken away
from the nail on my wall.
Days from its departure,
I walked to the wall
where my mirror once hung,
to the lighter shade of wallpaper,
a spot once guarded by my reflection.
I took out my blood-red lipstick,
and traced the mirror's shape in matte,
and in a cursive script, I wrote,
"You are beautiful",
the words foreign to the ears of my walls,
but welcomed nevertheless.
When you come across my mirror,
because you will, once in your life,
I warn you to close your eyes,
because it will lure you in, asking you,
"Don't you want to know
if you're the fairest of them all?"
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"Every second that you spend on doubting your worth, every moment that you use to criticize yourself; is a second of your life wasted, is a moment of your life thrown away. It's not like you have forever, so don't waste any of your seconds, don't throw even one of your moments away."
― C. JoyBell C.
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Dear readers,
I hope my words have evoked something in you. Your physical features do not define who you are and anyone who does not take enough time to know you are not worth your time.
I always love to hear your thoughts and feedback!
Please vote, comment and add the poem to your reading list!
Don't forget to check out my other works!
-Ebonylarch
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If my mirror could talk
PoetryThis poem is for all the people who think they're not good enough when looking into a mirror.It's a poem about a person suffering from Body Dysmorphic Disorder(BDD). I have people around me who think fairness is beauty, being lean is the perfect fig...