I hate my stomach
I hate my thighs
I hate my split ends
And I hate my eyes
I don’t like criticizing
My physical reflection
And I don’t like cutting up
My heart into sections
But how can I help it
When the flaws are right there?
I look into the mirror
And meet my own stare
And in the light above the mirror
I see my chestnut eyes
And remember a certain comment
And I begin to cry
Tears of happiness run down my face
And I apologize
To the reflection of the lovely girl
Telling herself these lies
I may not like my stomach
And I may not like my thighs
But split ends can easily be fixed
And he says I have beautiful eyes
So who am I to hate myself
For how I look on the outside?
True beauty comes from within, so I say
“I love my reflection,” with pride