Stopping by the Mirror Every Day

Gabriella Perkins, Junior, English, Italian Minor, Sacramento, CA

There is a girl in front of me.

Alas, I know what she can see;

I press my hands against the glass

And wish that I could disagree.

 

When she looks outside at the grass,

Is she avoiding feelings that harass

Her mind while she’s stuck in a trance?

She needs to check herself to pass.

 

I hope she knows better than to glance

At me with eyes that look askance,

And hope to recognize a grin

That from my face will not advance.

 

Changing her shirt then doing a spin,

She squeezes the rolls formed by her skin,

As if the thought that filled her mind

Was what it’d feel like to be thin.

 

This woman’s older now, refined;

She’s forced some thoughts to stay confined,

But that young girl still makes a plea—

She begs for us to just be kind.

 

Far from her own mind she must flee.

With endless things to do and be,

This woman may never be free.

This woman may never be free.