But I’m Okay

My confidence is a mirror

in a fun house.

Distorted, changing and uncertain.

It transforms at each glance.

Twisting and contorting.

Subtle alterations setting off endless reactions.

What once felt safe and calm,

now feels dangerous and agonizing.

As the mirror contorts and shifts,

my thoughts get louder and louder.

I look to the left of me, 

a shard of a shattered mirror lays on the floor.

But there’s someone next to me,

I watch as they stare at the broken image of themselves.

They stand in tears.

Sharp, jagged, missing pieces lay all over the ground. 

She’s screaming and sobbing as she stares at herself.

The bright colors of the room almost silence her cries.

I look back into my perfectly, unshattered mirror.

Suddenly, I feel some form of gratitude.

My mirror is perfectly placed and unshaped.

Normal, and calm.

I stare at myself,

uneven..

I’m not satisfied, but I’m okay.

I’m not thrilled, but I’m okay.

I’m not confident, but I’m okay.