I still can’t see myself in the mirror.

I am afraid that when I look at my reflection,
I wouldn’t bear seeing what I’ve become.
My eyes would still carry the same weight they did so many years ago.
Physically growth is evident,
most of my wounds had scarred,
my hair grew a couple inches.

I am most afraid of what I see beyond the surface.
I mean the most minute and insignificant details that shape who I am hidden to be.
I lack the “shine” in my eyes.
The slump in my shoulders from the heavy burden I’ve carried through life.

The mirror is my most intimate friend,
and that scares me even more.
It’s seen my most vulnerable moments.
Moments that my own mind tries to erase through sleepless nights,
yet when I see mirror
it all floods back like a hurricane I wasn’t warned of.

When I look in the mirror I see myself from my perspective,
and I drown in my self hatred.
I have to face myself,
someone I despise so much.
To the point it almost physically aches.

I can’t look at myself because in me I see her,
a girl I once was… I once knew.
Would she have ever forgiven me?
For what I turned out to be.
I want to know how she did it,
I used to think growth brought healing yet honestly I envy her more than I think she’d envy me.
How did she manage to deal with it?
And why did I loose that?
Where did it all go to hell?

“I’m sorry”
Is all I’m able to say.

I look back up at the mirror.
I still hate it,
can’t stand it.
I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with the person I turned out to be.