An Apology to My Reflection

     I tried to remember a time
when I did not hate my body
when I still appreciated
all that it was capable of
running cursive words
across vacant lots
I would chase butterflies
and paint the morning
with curious fingers
for so long I have counted
the calories, miles, lies
I told myself
there was porcelain catharsis
and tears that blurred my vision
blurred the reflection I saw
in that broken mirror
I shall not deny my curves any longer
the arches of femininity
that class artwork celebrates
I see not the imperfections, but the
strength and beauty it contains
I have swept the shards
and pieced myself back together.
I am whole again.