Beauty is horrifying.
Catching glimpses of imperfection in
mirrors, windows,
anything that reflects.
She got to the point
where she wouldn't look at
anything that could
show her what she most feared.
She found solace by
taking out her frustration
on the one thing she could control:
herself.
Head held halfway between shame
and defiance,
she purged the darkness inside
until she was
empty.
She said it felt better to be hollow than
to feel her own self disgust.
She said that there were some things
you just couldn't avoid.
I listened to her for so long,
I began to believe her.

Sometimes I see her,
flashing briefly across bright surfaces,
this girl who changed my life.
She dictated my future,
scarred my memories with
these notions that I could be like her.
And now I avoid things that can reflect.