She stood in front of the mirror, observing her every “imperfection”
The curve of her stomach, the scar on her thigh;
So beautiful, so natural, yet the reason she hated her own reflection.
Her daughter stood behind her, wondering, why?
Why does she hate a scar, something so small, with such a great history?
Why does she hate her stomach, from where life grew?
Her mind swirled with thoughts, yet only one remained a mystery:
“If I share her scars, her shape, should I hate myself too?”