I wake up each morning detouring  

my troubled gaze from the reflective surfaces 

that haunt me. 

I do not want to start  

my day with disappointment. 

I tell myself 

what I do not see will not hurt me.  

I manage to trudge my way to school.  

Eyes. Expressions. Stares. 

I want the earth to swallow me whole. 

Every minute is agonizing  

and mundane. Each class is like a triathlon - 

never-ending and painful. 

My long, knotty hair covers my tired face, a shield, 

to protect myself from the outside world. 

The final bell of the day  

is victorious and relieving. 

However, the crowded hallways are a jungle I must propel 

myself through before I am truly free. 

I make it home. 

I shut the squeaky, wood door  

to my cozy, dim bedroom –

silence.  

Eyes. Expressions. Stares.  

Silenced. 

I sink into my warm, soft bed.  

I love my bed.  

My bed does not judge me.  

For once all day 

I am accepted and at peace…

until my stomach drops - 

realizing I must do it all again.