Looking Glass

She’s a vicious little bitch.  Lacking sincerity in her pardons and kind words.  She walks around like she has the world figured out but can’t spell ‘actually’.

I despise her.

The way a woman despises a child who resembles something… 

familiar. 

 She missed out on the dual-parent household somewhere.  Has been too exposed to the cruelties of the world too soon.

Someone has told her that she is not pretty.  Is too skinny.  School crush doesn’t return her smiles. 



So she gets in where she fits in.  Overstating her importance and knowledge of things.

Hoping no one will notice that her hair has not been done in weeks.  Her clothes are too small.  Her feet too big. 



Builds a tortoise shell around her heart.  Becomes bossy and self-righteous.  Has sex with the boys who talk back, even if their conversations have no point.

She will probably fake pregnancies to keep them coming around.  Drop out of school her senior year.  Encounter sexual and domestic assault. 



Scribbling all these things in journals as poetry, essays, random rantings.

She will wonder what she did wrong. 



She and God will debate this several times over.  His Pro Argument that it is all to serve a greater purpose not enough to pacify the loathing that she has for those who seem to have more.  Whose lives personify Happily Ever After. 



One day, she will realize, with legs parted and eyes to the sky,  that Sleeping Beauty’s destiny was the finger prick,  choking was Snow White’s,  Cinderella suffered manual labor til fingertips bled.  And they endured these, gracefully; never knowing what great things lay ahead. 



She’s a vicious little bitch.  Lacking sincerity in her pardons and kind words.  She walks around like she has the world figured out but can’t spell ‘actually’.

I despise her.

The way a woman despises a child who resembles… 

 a true reflection of themselves. 



Copyright Joi Miner 

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