She looks in the mirror
a bleached
bronzed,
painted,
dressed,
whitened,
and fooled
little girl looks back at her.
Through shining eyes of blindness.
Does she truly not see the problem?

A world that forces,
A world that pushes,
a world that glorifies sin
and puts a shadow on the true reality
to save our oblivious souls from being saved.
This is the world she lives in.

Her skirt is too short.
and her neckline is low.
Her lungs forever stained from that last cigarette.
And if she still had those braincells that are now gone,
who knows how her intelligence would differ.
And that boy.
that boy that just went too far.
and she let him.

These are the pressures her society
lays on thick.
Smothering out good judgement
and morals,
and faith.

The sad thing is,
this is the norm.
She looks at her dirty face
and see success in the self-destructive things she's done.
Not learning a thing,
Not changing a thing.

She looks in the mirror.
Seeing her thickening body
and the round bump forming behind her bellybutton.
Holding a life she is poisoning.
She coughs,
and hacks,
and spits.
Her lungs weighed down
heavy with tar.
Her tiny skirts won't fit anymore.
And she just can't seem to control her desire for the drink that "comforted" her so many times in the past.
That boy.
The on that just went too far.
He's gone now.
Running from his mistakes as she only wishes she could.
But she can't.

Looking in the mirror,
she is no longer impressed.
More like depressed.

Picking up the paper and seeing one familiar name
and one unborn
unnamed
child listed in the section where you can never see yourself
was not a big suprise.

And she was only sixteen.