Mirror, mirror

Oh mirror, mirror on the wall, why must you show me my true form at all? For every glance I take at thee, I see a reflection that is not me. My mind, it twists and it contorts, the image before me, it distorts.

I see a body that is flawed, a shell that is broken and awed. My eyes deceive me, but yet I can't look away, trapped in this cycle day after day.

My thoughts, they spiral out of control, consumed by the dysmorphia in my soul. I see what is not there, and I can't escape the despair. My body, it feels like a prison, my mind, it's the warden within.

I try to hide my insecurities, but they are etched upon my features. I long to be free from this constant fight, to see myself with eyes that are bright. But until that day, I am trapped, in this cycle of self-loathing and snapped.

Oh mirror, mirror on the wall, I wish that I could see myself as tall, strong, and beautiful, but for now, I am trapped in this cycle, in this endless hall of body dysmorphia, and the mirror shows me only the reality.