The Mirror's Truth

I often wonder why the world feels like it’s spinning.
Why I find myself glued to the bathroom mirror,
Inspecting every insecurity that encompasses my very body.
I’m left to overanalyze and stare in quiet despair,
As I question why the mere thought of looking at myself makes me feel ill.

I often wonder why I criticize every body part of mine.
Why I find myself with droopy bloodshot eyes,
In a bathroom that feels suffocating to be in.
I’m left to hold my breath and count,
As seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into hours.

I often wonder why I find myself to be such a disgrace.
Why I find myself reluctant to look in the mirror,
As if the monster that stares back will define me.
Won’t it?

I often wonder why the world has it out for me.
Why I find myself to be so God damn repulsive.
As my yellow stained teeth feel rotten inside out,
And I’m left to question why brushing my teeth,
Feels like running a marathon.

I often wonder how kids could be so mean.
How their words could feel like razorblades,
Being dragged across my bumpy skin.
Their spit like citrus-cyanide and grainy salt,
Squeezed and rubbed into my fresh open wounds.

I often wonder why I was never able to obtain the courage.
But as I’ve grown older, the smoke around the mirror has cleared.
As I force myself to look,
Staring at the body I was taught to hate,
It’s no mystery why I find myself tear-stained.