I'm Okay...

Every morning

I frame my vision

In the demon- like mirror

Through the sun bathed picture

Of a normal girl

I see me and my skin

Through the stencils of convention

I touch me

And I rub my face

I reassemble my hair

And wash myself

Over and over

Till the softness of fabric

Burns against my skin

Do I look any better?

I don’t know

A dab of smelly substances

That claim to transport me

To larger than life posters

I had smeared heavily

Before a hunger- troubled slumber

Blissfully hoping

It would overcome

All my inlaid insecurities

Overnight

But of course

Magic is cooked up

In cauldrons of imagination

I walk out of the door

Tugging at my clothes

With inherent discomfort

Because this angle

And that fold

Makes my facade

......Acceptable

And yet I don’t spare

A single rear view mirror

Or a glass pane

Or even the darkened windows of cars

To reassure that nagging voice

That bullies me in my head

And every time I walk past

Those pretty boots

On skinny legs

Those sleazy skirts

That audacious dress

I tuck my tummy in

And for those few blissful moments

With reality withdrawn

And my skin pulled tight

I replicate every plastic smile

And answer every hollow greeting

With an empty, evasive

“I’m okay”...

On woman's day

To every woman who has a body image issue...