April 16, 2018
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I weave my hands through my hair,
Wisps of blonde collect in my hand.

I study my face. I study it all.
Each freckle is accounted for.

I examine my eyebrows, eyelashes,
my lips, the red skin under my nose.

I catch a glimpse of myself whenever I can.
I memorize how it looks when I talk.

I remember how I look when I express different emotions.
I know what to avoid, I know what I look okay doing.

I watch myself walk down hallways.
I know how my hair lays on my shoulders.

I watch myself from outside my body,
Critiquing every move.

I make notes of everything,
I got back and fix it later.

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