Angered.
Attacked.
Act.
Broken.
Battered.
Bloated.
Cut.
Cracked.
Cover.
The reflection shows what the eyes don’t want to see. The folds. The handles.
The fat calves. The jiggly arms.
Everyday forever wishing to be in another body.
I avoid mirrors.
Clean store windows. Clean glass tables.
Clean metal countertops. Clean computer screens.
I stare into their depths and feel disgusted with what I see.
Each reflection isn’t even accurate to another. Shorter and wider.
Taller and leaner.
How can you be sure if your eyes can’t actually see for itself?
Damaged.
Deranged.
Drama.
Examine.
Exist.
Eat.
Fear.
Frailty.
Fighting.
My stomach hurts.
I haven’t eaten all day.
School is long but my resilience is stronger.
Just 2 more hours.
Just wait.
I couldn’t wait.
My hate for myself grows.
Chips. Cookies. Cakes.
All of the leftover lasagna -- ¾ of the pan.
My stomach hurts.
Grief.
Give
Grave.
Heave.
Heartless.
Hate.
Ignore.
Isolated.
Inhale.
Inhale.
A neighbor found him lying on the ground. His parents weren’t home, they’re not home much most of the time, the house was empty save for the body. There was a broken mirror, shattered glass strewn everywhere on the ground drenched in potent blood. So much blood, deep cuts along the wrist, most likely from a particularly large jagged piece near his foot. He was unconscious, rushed to the hospital.
Screw this.
Air.
Better.
Close.
Durable.
Exhale.
Forgiveness.
Gift.
Hope.
Ignite.
He looked at himself three weeks later when he was released.
He saw a man, strong enough to stand and tough enough to smile.
He saw a reflection of a man, strong enough to stand and tough enough to smile. His eyes did not lie, that is the truth.
He finally sees who he is.
He is he.
Merciful to himself.
A new chapter.
Comments