Reflection is a necessity,

and not always a joy.

A solution searching for a


Through the figure staring back at her.

I try to remind her,

Her Body is a finished product,

and not a Prototype

— to be used and moved and loved.

Not version Beta or Omega.

Each Dimple in her rump.

Every tear across her skin,

glistening like wet icing sugar

— sickly to her not sweet.

Silver Strings she is wrapped up in

strings she has pulled too tight,

Like reigns on her life.

Using them to guide her home.

When she’s clutched

for every straw

and instead reached for the tooth brush.

There’s a likeness to her reflection.

A glimmer or twinkle she has not lost.

There’s a likeness,

But she doesn’t want to be like this.

Hello, my name is Emma and I like drawing, laughing and telling stories.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store