Mirror Mirror.

You stare at your reflection
And scrutinize every
Minuscule detail on your face,
Every minor contour on your body
And you continue staring,
Searching for flaws to conceal,
Carefully selecting the parts
You consider unattractive,
For society has clouded
Your better judgment and
Individuality. Your hands move,
Marking out all the deformities
You wish to change- like the ink
A surgeon uses, to determine
Precisely where his scalpel
Will cut the imperfections away-
Your every touch and thought
Is a knife, sawing your confidence.
You are adamant to fulfill
Your ideals of beauty, (though,
Not really yours, but those
You have been fed)
You are accustomed
To your smile and eyes-
No longer able to see and
Understand the beauty in them-
And you’ve run your hands
Down your sides, to your hips
Via your waist in the same, Monotonous motion innumerable
Times, without realizing that
To someone who isn’t as conditioned to your curves
And for someone who has never
Laid eyes on you before
The very features you find
So usual and ordinary,
And the very characteristics
You find so blunt and common,
Can be striking enough
To leave them breathless,
Gasping for air as they lose
Their consciousness,
Astounded by your extraordinarity.
You may not see what they see,
For you’ve looked at yourself,
Into your eyes, enough
To not notice their twinkle,
And you’ve scorned at your smile
Enough to forget its magic,
But have you ever really looked
At yourself beyond what
Looks back at you in the mirror?

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