As I walk through the funhouse my image changes


In the first mirror I see myself with pigtails and curls

Corduroy overalls that become my uniform

My space suit

My Olympian outfit

My zoo keeper’s khaki

My artist smock, stained with the changing colors of “when I grow up…”


The next mirror stretches me taller and wider

Lipglossed clown mouths taunt me

You’re a smart-ass

You’re fat

You’re a teacher’s pet

You’re nobody, and the words brand me with tattoos of “I’m not good enough”



A new mirror warps curves into my body

Slacked jaws and wide eyes become my worth

You’re so hot

You’re such a tease

You’re mine

You’re sexy, and you should you should you should you should you should




This mirror is empty

I fill it with me and I see myself finally

I am not the names that bullies launched at me

I am good enough


I am not the object begging to be touched by hungry dirty fingers

I most certainly will not will not will not will not will not



I am an astronaut

I am an Olympian

I am a zookeeper

I am an artist, a poet, a warrior, a traveler, myself


I walk out of the funhouse, slam the door

Every mirror shatters except for the last

Cracking popping bursting tinkling shattering

The sound of glass on the floor

And fireworks



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