tissues, blotted with lipstick.

She pulls at dark mangled hair,

smooths her tight black dress

and sighs in frustration.

The girl steps back, cocks her head,

and looks at her body from another angle,

one only visible through her enchanting green eyes.

Her body wriggles beneath the cool fabric

as she sucks in her stomach and sticks out her chest.

Supermodels stare down at her from the wall, and

the girl knows they are criticizing her hips, her lips, her legs.

She strums her ribs like a guitar,

and plays a secretly melody to herself.

She despises the reflective glass but craves the image it projects.

A tear falls, and she quickly wipes it away, not wanting to smudge her

mascara.

In some way, she knows she is beautiful.

She just wishes that others would tell her so.

<3<3<3