I see a girl fixing her hair with pretty pink lace bows she reapplies her lipstick which creases when she smiles she twirls around before me as if to put on a show of frilly pink dresses and rose petals. her golden hair glints under the dingy bathroom lighting for she is the sun herself. I see a student pull a marker from his pocket. he has not used a crayola marker in five years. red, rojo, rouge the color is dried-up and fading fast. he scribbles answers across his wrist but number after number and after countless google searches he can’t find the answer to “x.” I see a boy in a flimsy red jersey. he wipes the sweat beads pooling on his nose and clenches a medal tight in his hand his arms burn beneath his bruises but he squares his shoulders and his legs feel weak as toothpicks but he stands tall. he is proud to be number eight. he cups water in his hand to wash his face and it does not, cannot wash the feeling away- he has earned it. I see girl pacing the floor heartbeat fast footsteps faster. with shallow breaths she holds her hand to her heart looks in the mirror. she is unsatisfied with what she sees bloodshot red and ugly eyes. her thoughts tumbling around like a washing machine she crumbles to the gray tiled floors it would take thousands of soap bottles to wash her mind clean.
poem in desc ^ this poem is written from the perspective of a bathroom mirror. hope you enjoy!
