Cracked glass clouded by steam,

the reflection skewed reality,

my face distorted, monstrous!

That’s why I cover mirrors.

Sometimes, someone sees me,

wheels making me too obvious,

and I ponder what they think…

“You’re so strong!” One exclaimed.

Muscles atrophied to skin ‘n’ bone

long ago, weakness whittled

from could to should to won’t

with my soul my gut’s blackhole

sucking up good, bad ‘n’ all…

It’s not the wrinkles or dark spots

aging looks back and takes stock:

Who were you? Who’ve you become?

Does your soul just need a hug?

LEARN TO GIVE YOURSELF LOVE ❤️

To You: Here’s my face at my current age, and my goal is to leave it up for as long as anxiety will allow before I’m compelled to take it down, lol. I’m training my brain to break out of stupid self-deprecating patterns;)