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Obedient Eyes<br />
The mirror peers at me,<br />
as it always does,<br />
provocatively whispering<br />
the questions of my self doubt.<br />
Is that how you wish to present?<br />
“Well... the hair’s not right” I say<br />
and I try to comb the part that’s gone astray.<br />
That’s the way you want it?<br />
“Well no,” I reply.<br />
“But if it’s any longer they’ll ask me why.<br />
I cannot handle that.”<br />
Nearly 21 years old<br />
and there’s still a face of molehills<br />
and though I do not think they work<br />
I continue to take the doctor’s pills.<br />
I reach into my small, black bag<br />
and pull out the kabuki brush.<br />
Are you sure you want to use that stuff?<br />
“Does anyone?” I ask.<br />
The mirror stares unflinchingly.<br />
“Look,” I begin.<br />
“Perhaps we are not meant to hide our natural face.<br />
But if confidence is what we chase<br />
I think a mask is a requirement.”<br />
Flowers? Do you really find that appropriate?<br />
I look down at my shirt.<br />
“I do not know why not?” I say, then smile and continue,<br />
“This may be the only piece that’s accurate.”<br />
I take one final look at my reflection<br />
and pause before I leave.<br />
I scroll through photos on my phone<br />
admiring actresses and singers,<br />
the model women of society,<br />
and then, turning in dejection,<br />
I avert my obedient eyes.<br />
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