I want to talk about standing at the mirror at age five.
Thinking to myself, what will I look like when I’m older?
Standing on my tiptoes I think,
will I look the same but taller?
Will my face change into something new?

I want to talk about appearance.
How my face is littered
in acne
and the hate
I feel when I see it.
Like a cracked mirror that no one wants
because of the damage that has been done.

I want to talk about how the tears blend with shower water
as they tumble down my cheeks.
Hating the way I look.
Praying for it to go away.
How weak I feel when I sneak  a peak
at what I still look like after all this time.
I want to talk about every time
I look in the mirror,
I cringe at my blotchy red face
staring back at me.
The years I’ve had without confidence
in the person who I grew up to be. 
Looking back and thinking
why is this the person I grew up to see?

I want to talk about the only solution to my problem.
Taking a pill, something that I’ve never done before.
Fearing that I’ll have to rely on
a pill to make me pretty.
Only a pill can change me,
but I’m scared.
The struggle I have, to make it go down my throat,
and it won’t.
Squirming like a fish out of water
trying to fall back into the sea,
to childhood.

I want to talk about the people
who call me beautiful
anyway.
Telling me,
“you can do this”
Trying to boost my self confidence and it works,
for a moment.