Reflection

A look into the mind of what an insecure teenage girl feels when she looks into a mirror. Dark themes.

 

A simple glance in the mirror was all it was

Just a quick look

But it was a second too long.

 

The girl scowled in disgust at the person staring back at her.

 

Her skin was too pale

So pale that she could be standing in a dark alley with no streetlamps on

And still be able to take in the scenery that surrounded her.

 

Where her skin wasn’t chalky pale, it was an angry red

The color of a ripe cherry.

The raised bumps were everywhere she looked-

No matter where she turned her head for a better angle of her face

She would meet a series of bumps

That no amount of cover-up could hide.

 

Her nose was big and awkwardly-shaped

Due to many years of glasses resting upon them.

It was like one big bump-

Almost like a camel.

The skin was a blistery red

Like the color of Rudolph’s nose.

Bumps rested against her nose

Like a person would lie down on a hill.

 

Her boring brown hair was frizzy

Just like it always was whenever it was humid.

No matter how much time she spent straightening it

It never came out of its frizzy state

Making her look like an ugly troll doll.

 

Finally fed up with her appearance

The girl turned away from the mirror.

But the image she saw was imprinted into her brain

Like a nasty car accident witnessed on a highway.

 

The disgust didn’t merely linger-

It grew stronger

Until she felt like she would drown from the weight on her heart.

She needed to get rid of it.

 

She turned back to face the mirror

And punched it with all the force she had.

 

Shards of glass poked their way

Into her skin.

Marking her.

 

Bliss engulfed her

As she embraced the pain.

It made her forget everything-

Her appearance, her loneliness, her feeling of being out of control.

 

With the thoughts acknowledge

The weight on her heart steadily grew

Until she thought she would pass out.

Only one thing made everything go away-

Her pain.

 

She reached into her cabinet

Poking around its contents until she came across the object of her desire-

Her razor.

 

The blade pierced her skin at the contact

But all she could feel was bliss.

Everything disappeared from her world

As she watched her crimson blood

Paint the porcelain white-tile floor.

Author's Note

This is the first time in a while that I've written poetry. So if it's not that great, that's why.

Reviews

[Simone]

This is an interesting style of poetry. It's a great poem, very true to life. I really liked it- keep it up and i can't wait to read more of your work ^_^