She stares back at me,
Tauntingly.
She challenges me with her glare.
She screams at me.
Ugly.
Stupid.
Pathetic.
Worthless.
Broken.
Scarred.
Beaten.
Alone.
And I believe her.
Every word.
Every fear is like a thousand knives.
Though the ones I use are sharper.
The wounds I inflict are worse.
More personal.
More real.
They help me to feel something.
I have to make sure I’m still alive.
Still ABLE to feel ANYTHING.
I look back to the girl in the mirror.
She is my worst enemy
And my best friend.
I hate her.
I am her.
I envy her.
She stands there,
So perfect.
Untouchable.
Nothing can harm her.
A perfect copy of myself.
And yet,
Different.
Better.
Unbreakable.
I throw the mirror on the ground.