The Mirror
Not only do these illnesses in my head kill me
The Mirror disgusts me as well
Sometimes it is hell,
to look in this mirror
When I look at my reflection,
I don't know who I see
Because my mind is telling me,
that who I see isn't me
I hate the way I look,
for I am trapped
I like to believe at certain times that I am,
pretty,
one of a kind,
beautiful
But it isn't until I come back to the mirror,
that all of these thoughts slip away
Perhaps there is a misunderstanding in my mind of
who I am
But no matter how hard I try to be free of such thoughts,
when I feel well and confident,
as soon as I look into the mirror my mind reminds me how
ugly,
terrible,
and unattractive I am
Day after day I try to convince myself,
that it's just looks I have to get over
I think that when I look into the mirror
That soon I will be confident enough to accept my
looks
But when I come back to the mirror,
my looks become even more unappealing,
then the day before
Because of the mirror,
whenever I go out into public I am,
embarrassed,
ashamed,
fearful,
and sad of how I look
Even if I break the mirror to make
pain go away,
The shards of glass from the mirror will still successfully remind me,
of how unattractive I will always be
