Hours Of Invalidation

By Divya Bharti

For the past 1 hour 16 minutes I have been looking into the mirror,

Every 1 minute I look at myself into the mirror and for 10 minutes I look at your reflection.

Your eyes mocking my sagged breast; the breast sitting lower on the chest and my nipples pointing downwards.

You look like my ex-lover, who called me beautiful one drunk night and the next morning his eyes gazed the cellulite on my thighs. He gaped my curves and said so disfigured.

Now for the past 1 hour 27 minutes I have been looking into the mirror,

Every 1 minute I look at myself into the mirror and for 10 minutes I look at your reflection.

Your eyes intimidating me to find more flaws, I keep seeing myself till I turn into adequate proportion trying to fit into a ratio 36-24-36.

And I shatter holding my lower belly fat and flat chest.

You're not like my ex-lover because you tell me to wear push-ups so I still can get cleavage with small breast.

You're not my ex-lover,

You are a vulture finding prey with fresh flesh. You are a glutton leaving your leftovers for others to feed.

Now for the past 1 hour 38 minutes I have been looking into the mirror,

Now Every 10 minute I look at myself slowly moving my tender palms caressing my breast, squeezing my curves and processing my flaws.

I don't look at your reflection in the mirror.

I turn back and I whisper I love my ex-lover.

You are pissed. Pissed in a way I was.

Pissed more than you wanted me to be perfect.

You call me a slut.

Period.

I am rebuilding bone by bone with graft, skin and muscles.

I am remodeling.

By Divya Bharti