today i am mourning my
sixteen year old self.
i will put her photo up
en mi ofrenda,
and i will decorate her
with pretty blues and greens.
i will set out a plate,
and when she comes i will
tell her she can eat.
as i pray i will apologize —
she was never seen,
and the goddamn mirror
was always lying.
i will tell her, we don’t need it
anymore to be pretty.
we have found better reflections
that can show us our beauty.
in the eyes and minds
of the ones we love,
and the eyes and mind
of us.
tonight i am mourning my
sixteen year old self.
tomorrow i will scream at the mirror
and cry about the year that it stole,
but for tonight i will sit
at mi ofrenda,
and sixteen year old bela
will tell me i look old.
i will laugh and she will
tell me it’s a joke.
(she knows she’s not funny,
i tell her that hasn’t changed.)
she won’t eat her food,
and so i do.
she watches enviously,
and i tell her not to —
she’ll get there one day.
most days, i mourn
my sixteen year old self.
i hug her in my brain
when i get a good grade.
i kiss her forehead when
my lover kisses mine.
i hold her hand
when ours intertwine.
i hold her hair back
when i throw up at parties,
and i tell her not to cry for me.
we are okay now.
we are seen.
and everybody knows,
everything i do
is for sixteen year old me.
Photo via Rebecca Niver on Unsplash
slime rancher 2 • Nov 23, 2022 at 11:30 pm
Looking at the picture, we can see that there are many beautiful flowers in the world that we don’t know