Dear Me in the mirror,
I see your hair is brown again. Not quite as dark as you like it, but then again you'd rather it be red. Your face is blemished, your nose red. That red is that sunburn you got. Your nose just looks like you've been crying, but your chest is so red you sometimes think it's kinda purple. Your stomach's also quite burnt. Your thighs aren't as bad as they were. You've got more freckles than you usually do- Too much sun. Your eyes aren't bad. Sometimes they're dull and bored, but most of the time they're bright and clear. They're never the same color they were the day before, or at least not that I can recall. Your nose looks okay, at least until someone takes a picture of your profile. Then it looks like a little tomato. My teeth I'll never be happy with. I've gotten used to them, but I'm not happy about them. I'll be getting braces soon. I'm really dreading it because I think braces look horrible and painful, but I know I need them.
Sometimes I think you're beautiful. You stun me with your own kind of beauty. You're nothing to put in a magazine, but you're pretty to those who can see it.
Other times I think you're plain and don't even bother to wonder why only one man wants you.
Your stomach is too chubby
Your thighs just a little too jiggly
Your boobs just quite not big enough [I mean, they have a lot to make up for]
You don't even look that great in corsets
Why can't you be tall and slim, just like you always wanted to be?!
But I digress.
Sometimes I'll love you, sometimes I'll hate you, but in the end I can't change you.
Love,
Yourself
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