(Trigger Warning: Mentions of body dysmorphia)
Who is the girl in the mirror?
I do not know her. But I have seen her before.
Every time I look into the mirror.
She has eyes the colour of bitter coffee,
She has hair as long and beautiful as a lion’s mane.
She has a sharp nose, and a sharp jaw;
She has perfect, unbroken skin.
She is beautiful.
Who is the girl in the mirror?
I do not know her. But I have seen her before.
Every time I look into the mirror.
She has thighs that don’t touch,
arms that don’t quiver.
She has hips without marks, and hips without dips.
She has a stomach as smooth and flat as a slate of marble.
She is beautiful.
Who is the girl in the mirror?
I do not know her. But I have seen her before.
Every time I look into the mirror.
She does not worry about numbers on a scale.
She does not hide beneath clothes a size too big.
She does not cover her stomach when she sits.
She does not have to smear paint under her eyes,
To hide her sleepless nights.
She is beautiful.
Who is the girl in the mirror?
I do not know her. But I have seen her before.
Every time I look into the mirror.
She feels no pressures of this world.
She does not stay up late thinking about things.
She does not shed tears over every lost mark.
She does not trust too easily.
She does not live in uncertainty.
She has everything I have ever wanted, yet could never achieve.
She is beautiful.
Who is the girl in the mirror?
Maybe she was me.
Maybe I will be her.
I do not know her. But I have seen her before.
Every time I look into the mirror.
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