Every day I look into the mirror and this is what I see. 

Size 2 kids feet, stepping on me. 

Thin legs that can never be free, for there is a iron chain around them that no one can see

Thick thighs and full hips that boys like to touch.

But they aren't looking for love that are looking for lust. 

A tight belly, wrapped around my chocoloately skin, easing into my shapely bottom.

Looking into the mirror, this is what  I see.

Slim arms caught behind my back, branching out from my worn out shoulders, weary from carrying the weight of depression and utter sadness. 

A graceful neck and atop it a small head...

So, Is this is were the issues begin?

Lips slightly parted, stained with the ghost of a smile. 

Nose long, from holding my head to the ground.

Ears pinned, so that they may never listen. 

Eyes soulless, devoid of all happiness. They are the grey of cement beneath my battered feet. 

A wild mane of hair that everyone wills to be tamed, it is the only pleasing characteristic that shows my soul within, 

Every day I look in the mirror and what do I see? 

A caged bird, with no wings, aching to be set free.