Truth

Diffident

A voice constantly mocks me.

As I stare into a mirror, I see it behind me.

It does not speak, but it whispers.

It does not touch, yet it lingers.

Small doubts placed in my mind.

My shirt is too big.

Yet not big enough.

My pants are too tight.

Yet never tight enough.

My chest never feels right.

But I ignore the sensation.

Hands on my throat.

To ignore the temptation.

1 – 4 – 0 to 9 – 3

The doctor’s not sad.

My mother is glad.

My father’s frustrated words mean nothing.

My brother does care.

I can’t even bear

my very own reflection.