The mirror is not my friend,
Telling me lies,
Always wanting me to follow the trend.
I was stupid believing those lies,
But just when I thought they’d stopped
I felt like I should be a smaller size.
I hate feeling like a failure,
Feeling like I’m not good enough,
Always needing to be reassured.
I never realized what the mirror said
Wasn’t true.
Never imagined that it was all in my head.
I never though that it would happen to me,
Next time I should think,
Before I act on what I see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
One of the astonishing things about Violetta's poetry is her ability to keep an aesthetic distance from the strong emotions she talks about. That way they never become maudlin, making one think, 'Oh not some more childish angst', such that revisiting one's own childhood is not only comfortable but full of the importance we wanted people to perceive about how we felt.