Untitled

When the reflection staring back at her becomes too familiar
Every flaw constrasted in stark assurance that she is
mediocre, trivial, plain
The weight of ineptitude becomes crushing.
When the face in the mirror begins a mocking tyrade
Of all that she once thought she was
Smart, pretty, lovable
The fear of loss becomes unbearable.
And then it begins, the dreams, the waking nightmares
The featurless face lauging from the shadows with
threats, promises, names
The need to cling becomes overwhelming.
But she can't.
Her fear wins.
Because.
When she reaches out to touch or hold or kiss
Even if just for a second to express
love, affection, desire
The fear of rejection crumbles her.
And she stands back in front of that mirror
With eyes of regret, tears of weakness, trembling hands
She can only wait and hope
For some sort of redemption.