my reflection

I am my reflection,
 a mirrored mosaic of imperfection,
 pieces that fit together
 too big, too small, too crooked
 creating your beautiful

my eyes see broken shards in sun-soaked windowpanes,
 a puzzle of opposing pieces
 begging for blonde hair,
 straight teeth,
 thighs that never touch

you see Mona Lisa

I dress in darkness to avoid B-cups,
 conceal belly bulges,
 escaping those places of your tender hand’s exploration

my fingers jams throat’s interior,
 fingers probing,
 a calorie-counting obsession
 to become a Victoria’s Secret model
 size nothing

your eyes see beautiful without the hipbone protrusions,
 carefully crafted arms on a 90-pound Barbie

mine see only broken

I wish I had your vision,
 to see myself in your eye’s image
 a smile without lips, a heart without its skin
 then I would know,
 I’m more than just a body

Originally published at stephaniteleigh.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.