Vanity, Self Stricken

Look at me in my mirror,

stare at me though my eyes.

See just what I hate,

about my shoulders,

about my thighs.

Look at me through the way I see me,

through the way I view myself.

Notice that twinge of pain,

as I wish I was someone else.

I've stricken myself with vanity,

an obsession with how I am percieved.

Im falling out of my sanity,

if Im called pretty Im relieved.

Only for a second,

then I analyze it all.

I wonder at the reason,

and again I start to fall.

This black hole is never ending,

it seems nothing helps anymore.

Do you wish you didnt know me?

Wondering what you bothered for?

It doesnt matter what you say to me

it doesnt matter what you see

all I see is disproptionate,

vanity stricken me.

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faceless's picture

I really think this is your best poem yet. Amazingly good.

What Else can I say?

You've got a real talent, kudos.