My hands grip the white porcelain sink,
painstakingly holding my body upwards.
My arms become rigid,
cutting a sharp angle as they bend my body forward.
My shoulders hunch,
gradually bringing my head closer to the mirror in front of me.
My lips press against each other,
creating a grim line that stretches across my face.
My nose is broad,
a reminder of things I can change but never will.
And my eyes,
eyes that stare
eyes that seek
eyes that probe
eyes that emote more than I can ever say with words
tell me that
“i am enough”