Beautiful Disaster


She stares longingly in the mirror straining to see any hint of beauty
hoping to catch a glimpse of a sparkle in her dull gray-blue eyes.
Tilting her head from side to side to see if she can discover a “good” side,
or at least the lesser of the two evils.
Sucking in her cheeks, to thin out her round and pudgy face
before making a fish-face-she laughs at herself for a moment-
was that a sparkle in her eye or just the reflection of the bathroom lights?
Her smile fades as she slides her hand under her chin
to conceal her second and third chins.
Those dull grey-blue eyes follow the curves of her body in the mirror's reflection,
tracing over her broad shoulders down to fat and flabby arms.
From the reflection to her own body, her eyes scan, looking down upon pale breasts,
heavy breasts that have begun to sag already from the massive weight they carry.
Red stretch marks indicate the body's need to adapt to such a burden.
Good thing skin is so stretchy she thinks or else she might have burst a long time ago.
She tries to smile at the self-deprecation, like she always does.
Beyond her breasts she can see no more than the jutting island of her stomach.
Luckily that is all her vision will allow because she doesn't think she could stand much more searching.
Nervously she sways and fidgets, moving her disheveled hair from her face, her best feature
that she conceals, lazily in an unruly bun.
“Beautiful,” she thinks timidly, “I am beautiful,” she says as she inhales
sucking in her stomach until she feels dizzy.
She exhales exhaustively and shakes her head in the mirror.
“No, today I am not, but perhaps I will be tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she thinks as she climbs into the shower.

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