I am a girl.
I am a woman.
I should sit on the toilet, and stare at the wall, or the tub, or the sink.
My view should be of the things around me, not the things under me.
I am a human.
I am a person.
I should not hang my head over the toilet like a dog, releasing vomit from my mouth.
I should use that mouth to sing.
To speak beautiful poetry.
To encourage someone.
I used to stare at the wall.
I used to stare at the tub, and the sink.
Now I just stare at the mirror. And into the eyes of a girl who's soul is empty.
A girl who's dreams were flushed down the toilet right along with the vomit and shattered confidence.
The voices I hear every day are plastered on the faces that stare back at me from the glossy pages of magazines.
Because that is how you're supposed to look.
I have seen the picture, but I have looked at it with tainted vision, and from the wrong angle.
I have heard the words, but I am listening with deaf ears.
I have felt the hurt, but confused it with love.
I am good enough.
I am strong enough.
I am thin enough.
I am loved.
So now I can sit on the tiolet.
And stare at the wall.
Or the bathtub.
Or the sink.
And I can smile.