last night
i gazed at
myself
in the mirror
as if
for the first time.
in the dim evening light
my skin was so thin
i could see through myself.
i held my arms out wide
and turned
round and round.
before my eyes
i saw
my soul
and a life long past
but ever present
and never
forgotten.
i saw the child
i used to be
covered in blood and bruises
from belts and brushes and hands
and words.
the child i used to be
tried
so hard
to be good and pretty and
funny and perfect
but she failed.
she was wrong
a mistake.
as i slowly turned
i noticed
the child
i used to be
had no tears.
she would not cry
no matter how much
she hurt.
she would
protect
her mother
and make her
happy
and never
tell
a soul...
about the hands
tied behind her back,
or eating from a bowl
on the floor
like a dog
or the bars of soap
taped inside her mouth
for entire nights.
as my arms
fell to my sides
another girl appeared
this one not
so young,
not a child...
but so thin
and helpless
and sad.
she would not eat
for hours
or days
or weeks
because
she was busy keeping
everything
from
falling apart.
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