Help, it's staring right at me...
With it's gnarly teeth,crooked smile and disfigured body.
PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!
It's taunting me...mimicking my every move...
showing me all it's scars, burns and bruises.
I can't belive anyone could ever call that thing beautiful.
Say it needs to love itself because nothing is wrong with it.
Of course there is!
How can they not be?
Can't they see what I see?
Can't they see what's wrong with me?
Wait...
Why would I say me?
That..that menace...that witch couldn't be...
No, please...NO!
I don't want to be...
And as paint splattered teardrops fall onto my shirt,
I watch in quiet despair...
My own reflection.