Aging Up

I wake up with the sun at 19 and turn to get ready,

with the same hands I had at 9

I look in the mirror and ask if she’s okay; my hands

caress the face in the reflection. Nobody asked enough at that age.

I washed the hair, a little shorter now,

on the same head I had at 13

I attempt to remind her our worth doesn’t live lie in desirability, yet in the love and appreciation we have for ourself.

I find myself over a different sink, but brushing the same teeth

that filled my mouth at 16

I congratulate her for doing a task that seemed so distant

a few years ago

I then gaze back into the mirror from the age 25

I seek a notion that everything will turn out fine.