Sometimes,

I wish mirrors were never

created,

because the

girl in the

reflection

seems to take

liking in mocking

my every move.

As I brush my hair,

she does the same.

When I cringe at the way

my hair falls upon my face,

she lets out a laugh.

And if I choose to apply makeup,

she judges the way I applied my blush.

And if I glare at her

she glares back.

We‘re the same

person,

the same “thing”

but for some reason,

she makes me feel so

small.

Sometimes,

I wish mirrors were never

created,

never a thing.

(An old prompt (and a story starter) (and there’s a certain theme, but I’m to lazy to try any harder than this (sorry )) but I wrote a poem for this ;) )