26. Poppy Wells

26

Poppy Wells

I looked in the mirror,

but only imperfections looked back at me.

Each one called out to me like a siren’s song.

Their voices filled the silence inside my head

with whispers of stolen promises and forgotten secrets.

I saw my tired face,

wavy curls falling beside my cheeks

and disappearing far beyond my shoulders.

Golden skin now dulled,

hopeful eyes now sorrowed.

Pools of darkness laid beneath them,

swallowing me whole.

I looked in the mirror and saw everything I hated.

Each scar was a reminder of whose genes I wore.

The greenness of my eyes was nothing but a curse.

How could I look back at the girl staring at me through the lens and feel anything but emptiness?

I was just a number on a scale.

A number on a scoreboard.

A number on a test paper.

Just a number.

Always a number.

What else was there to me but that?