Have you ever felt as if your reflection is speaking to you? Sometimes the words are encouraging, kind even, things like “Wow, you look great today!” or “Girl, slay!”. But other times, it feels as if your reflection is yelling cruel, hurtful things at you. The words feel like knives against your soul, they break your self-esteem and make you want to lock yourself in your room or find a different body. The worst part is that these hurtful words are coming from the person who is supposed to be your biggest supporter: yourself.
I realized that my issues with my appearance were not only a product of my insecurities but the ones my culture and society had inflicted upon me. This beauty sickness that was poisoning my mind and the minds of so many other men and women. I overcame it with self-love and perseverance, but many do not. This poem is about the devastating reality of those who didn’t.
Beauty Sickness
The little girl pranced around the house
A beaming smile on her face
Her world filled with fairy tales and happily ever after’s
Morning light shines on a mirror in the corner
The little girl gallops towards the mirror licking her lollipop
Mirror, am I pretty?
The Mirror laughs in scorn
Why ask questions you already know the answers to?
Of course not
Look at what crooked teeth you have
Such a plump face
Gnarly, Tangled hair
Big, witch nose
You are not pretty, you are not worthy
Blossom like a flower, like all girls, should
Then come back later
Three years pass
She covers her face with a curtain of black hair
The little girl hears the mirrors voice echo in her mind
Not pretty, not pretty, not pretty
The little girl marches into her room
She examines her reflection and frowns
Mirror, am I beautiful yet?
The Mirror groans in frustration
Why do you always return to me with such silly questions?
You know the answers
Look at your big, bulging stomach
Those unnerving bug eyes
Fat, wide, round hips
You are not beautiful paint your face
Make it something worth looking at
Then come back
A year passes
The girl is no longer a little girl
Her makeup is smeared
A fake smile plastered on her face
The girl still hears the mirrors voice echo in her head
Not pretty, not pretty, not pretty
Not skinny, not skinny, not skinny
Not beautiful, not beautiful
The girl stumbles into her room
She outlines the scars on her arms and thighs
She caresses her protruding ribs
Mirror, will I ever be enough?
The Mirror wears a sympathetic smile
No darling, of course not
The girl realized there was no mirror at all
Only her own voice spewing hatred in her head
Her own reflection tormenting her, leaving no escape
Beauty sickness plagues the world
It poisoned the mind of a young girl
A year later the girl is gone
Tears splashed on her grave
Dark skies and even darker hearts, all dressed up in black
All that was left of the girl was a shell
She had a lifeless look in her eyes
That had been there for quite some time
