prose | my father kissed me |


I stumbled into the bathroom ,my eyes were glazed over with tears. I could hardly see anything but the sad pathetic face looking back at me. Crushed soul. I saw the the nothingness that my self image had become. I didn’t see me in that mirror. This time I couldn’t blame it on the crack in my bedroom mirror which always made for a great excuse as to why the image staring back at me was not beautiful. A hollow chuckle and the words “I’m a beautiful girl” would follow. Now, here in this bathroom, these mirrors were clean. Like really clean. Cleaned and polished everyday clean. SO clean that beyond the several masks I could see myself. Like these mirrors had been waiting for me. Waiting for my hollow chuckle or the shallow “I’m a beautiful girl”. Silence. I unmade myself. I buckled under my reflection. I became undone…

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