The Mirror
I told my father
To take the mirror down
Because I didn’t want it
I lied
I meant
Take it away!
I don’t want it
I can’t stand it
I tell myself
It’s a hurtful liar
It twists my image
I know that’s not true
The mirror shows what’s real
It shows me what it
Nothing more
It’s not its fault I hate the reflection
The mirror isn’t to blame
For my self-loathing
For the image I put in it
But it makes me feel better to say so
So today like any other
I tried to avoid it
But messed up
I looked
And I stopped
And I stared
And I stared
Maybe the mirror can stay
Why is it we never like the sight of our own image? It’s almost universal! We nitpick ourselves to death! Nice poem.