You are you.

"You are you" she tells herself, hoping that those words are enough to challenge doubt. Staring at the fierce expression that reflects back, disgust mocks the mirrored girl. Acne stricken in sections, her focus is cast away from her eyes. Perhaps had she stared a little longer in her pupils she would have seen herself, seen all her beauty. Perhaps had seen examined her face from afar, she would have seen all her features. Perhaps had she watched herself through another gaze, she would have seen a girl. Instead, as though a pin in a bowling ally, she awaits the criticism that her thoughts declare. Praying they will tire and avoid, hoping they will miss or be light, dreading the heavy strike that sends her tumbling down. "You are you" she repeats a little too late. 

Her hands rise to each temple, stroking down on the broken skin. Tears tremble at the lids; uncertain of falling, they wait. Another glide across her face, she leans in closer; all vision directed to her skin. Caressing the fragile surface with her fingertips, she feels the bumps from within as well as the surface. This time her gaze is drawn to the waiting tear at the edge of her soul. "You are you" She says, before it dives.