Looking At Myself

I stand in front of the mirror naked to look at all my imperfections, to taunt myself, to tease myself. I do this on days when I see nobody else, so I have to be the one to bring about my grief.

My legs are hairy.

My belly is round.

My rashes are sporadic.

My face is tired.

This is what a typical overworked, undernourished person looks like.

But I say only I look this way, so it stings more.

Afterwards I flip through fashion magazines to compare myself to models. Then smother my face in a pillow while I sleep.

This is who I am.

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