Reflection

I awake, and there she is again,

we are standing face to face,

what is it that she has to gain?

Bugging me at a fast pace.

She is unfair and mean,

and points out all the wrong in me.

I tell her: I already know all this,

but never is she convinced,

the reminder of my worthlessness,

she could never have missed.

She gets quieter on some days,

but she is always there with her gaze.

It’s my luck not many join her,

though by that I mean by intention,

for others I am a forgiver…

for myself I don’t show such affection –

self-loathing: if only I were different.

If only more magnificent.

When someone is positive or kind,

I see it as a lie –

she simply makes me blind.

I’m told not only me she makes cry,

but if we all suffer,

wouldn’t we be kinder to each other?

She is everywhere I look, I find, as she is always in my mind.

- Self-criticism