7 years old,
i glance at the mirror and smile,
fiddle with the bow in my hair for a while.
mum told me all about love
as i sat beside her, listening.
my aunt said it was okay
when i messed up the kitchen.
i tended to laugh a lot
and hug all of my best friends.
i answered a question in english
and got the answer right

10 years old
i look at the mirror shyly
and tie my hair in a knot,
dropping my gaze slightly.
when i told mum about my day
i could tell she wasn't listening.
my aunty scolded me
when i messed up the kitchen.
i tended to smile a lot
and hug my one best friend.
i tried to answer a question in english
and shrugged when it was wrong.

12 years old,
i stared at the mirror unblinking.
wondering why
i wasn't quite pretty.
mum was always drunk,
and when she screamed i was listening.
my aunty yelled at me
and made me clean the kitchen.
my boyfriend wouldn't let me
hug any of my friends.
my teacher made me answer a question
and i flinched when it was wrong.

14 years old,
i watch the mirror, crying —
heart breaking slowly
feeling like i'm dying.
mum tells me nothing
as i stand beside her ashes
my aunty screams at me
and my entire dignity crashes.
these days i don't even have
any friends to hug.
in english, i asked three questions
all three began with sorry.

at 16 i'll smash the mirror,
let the glass cut my hands,
i'll finally join my mother —
i'm sure she understands,
my aunty will cry at my funeral
and wish i was still seven.
i won't be heart-broken anymore,
i can hug all of my dead friends.
my english teacher can write my obituary
i wonder —
if he comprehends.