Be your own butterfly.

Location

Beep Beep Beep

In the dark I fumble for my phone,

and there is silence.

The day has not started and I am already done.

Opening my eyes I swing my legs over the edge of my bed,

and stand before the inanimate object that ruins my life.

Looking back at me is a girl.

A brown girl, with brown eyes, hair, and skin.

Who is she? She is me.

The mirror before me shows an image I do not want,

an image that has forever haunted me.

I lift up my shirt and poke at my stomach,

and it is empty from not eating the day before.

I turn away in disgust, but what I see causes me to smile once again.

The butterflies cut out of an old book cover my walls.

Doodles drawn by my siblings are taped along side them,

I cannot give up.

I am a butterfly flapping my wings in the sun.

I am a butterfly not caring how I look but only caring that I am happy.

Every butterfly is beautiful,

and so am I.

Looking back at that dreadful mirror I smile,

with all my teeth showing I finally look happy.

I do not have to look perfect.

I just have to look like me.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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