Mirrors

sometimes i look in the mirror and i don’t see my face. i see a mix of my mother and my father, my features blurred into a mess of what used to be theirs. mirrors, i avoid them like the plague. how am i supposed to see myself in it, be so sure of myself? some days the mirror is clearer. i see my blue eyes, my broad shoulders, my pronounced nose. then i remember, i dont like these things about myself. what’s the point? to become shrouded in self absorption? i don’t want to see myself that way. i want to like myself, most days. but the familiar feeling of misery sinks it way into my skin like a parasite, eating away at my brain more and more. it’s as if i fall into a pit, surrounded by more mirrors, twisting and contorting my face into something unrecognizable. i don’t see myself, just a jumbled up mess.