Shape Shifter

There's a monster residing in mirror. I wake up every morning, wondering what form she's going to take on that day. Sometimes she looks like myself, sometimes she looks like a different version of me, but I still can never fully recognize the girl I see. She's always changing, always shifting, never set on just one look. This monster seems like she can't ever be happy with herself or the way that I look, she always has to change something. One day she could look lovely. Her skin may be clear, her hair lovely and curled, her body perfect and proportioned, her happiness shining through at ever physical part of her. Another day she's disgusting and almost nothing like the girl I saw before. She'll be covered in anxious scratches, the bags under her eyes more prominent than ever, her hair flat, like her own self loathing is covering every inch of her body. The only part of us that stays relatively the same is our eyes, our eyes are always beautiful, always showing that we are alive, even if some day those colors are clouded.

I don't always know which part of me is going to be reflected that day, but it never really feels like it's me.