“You're beautiful! ” they said.
“Perfect in every way”
“Your insecurities soon will shed”
“as there's nothing wrong with what you weigh”
But my reflection tells a different tale,
a tale with far more truth.
It's says that I look sickly pale,
a broken sight of youth.
“Your 'beauty' does not exist! ” it shrieks.
“In fact it never did! ”
“you should be sat beside the freaks!
“you disgusting, flabby pig! ”
My thighs are too wide and hurt peoples' eyes
My stomach is bovine
My mind is broken with no way to fix, all I let out are sighs
I look at my reflection and I learn these many facts,
The smallest spec of beauty is what I truly lack.
When I was younger I thought I was a flower,
but then I grew and now understand that my reflection holds the power.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem