I have a conversation with myself every night

Nothing too deep, whimsical, spiritual

Nothing any 16 soon to 17 year old 

In a suburban neighborhood who

Walks the walk, talks the talk,

And lives the public school life

Would have.

It’s from the neck up

I made that decision some time ago

When the conversations would get too

Long, too

Miserable, as if I was suffocating in the utter exhalation

Of hate and evil

And so I left the torso and extremities for

Earlier in the day,

Where the glistening sunlight and cheery chirps would,

I hoped, 

Filter the flaws

But when the window turned black, 

The mirror did not lie

It poured out the god-awful truth, and I

I had no choice but to listen

Accepting the criticism, the comparison, the cruelty

It was more of a one-sided conversation, really

My reflection points to my skin, it’s bumps and spots

I don’t reply

My reflection taunts my uneven eyebrows, lopsided nose

I silently assent because, she had a good point

Angered by my silence, my reflection rages on, 

Pinching my cheeks, poking my chin, attacking the blotches, and blemishes

Picking apart my face

Picking apart my adolescence

Until all that is left are two eyeballs, staring back at me

Tears would well up an disappear

They had nowhere to go

And I would proceed with my nightly routine

The pain numbed away, and 

All that was left 

Was a blank stare

Looking back at the unfairest of them all.