Bully in the Mirror

[Celestina Waters]

WOW! I love this place! the format, the feedback, the honesty. I am looking forward to submitting many more poems here. I also plan to read and review those who have reached out to make my poem better. I thank you all for you time and dedication and enlightenment.

Hi Celestina, welcome to the site:

A few initial comments without doing a line for line.

You've got a lot of flat exposition going on here, and it would be good to stick more with imagery to make your point. I'll give you a few examples, and maybe an idea or two to pursue on rewrite.

She spends five hours getting ready for school
Knowing all her hard work is for naught--This is a conclusion and not emotionally charged. Also "naught" just feels like an outside observer and not the character.
For by the time she gets to her locker she will be tripped into a reality that feels a nightmare--Again show the nightmare don't tell us what's coming.
The names she can handle, as she has heard various versions her whole life--Names feel out of place here let me explain where I'm coming from below

You have an interesting perspective in the title. She is her own bully. Her worst bully probably. Or the mirror itself is the bully. Or the people are her mirror. I think when you have the speaker break the gaze to go to the locker or get called names you lose focus. It's most important to focus on her bullying herself. If you do introduce other characters make them more passive with their looks and have her interpretation of meaning carry the emotional force.

What hurts the most are the way people stare,--The focus on "stare" sort of gets to the idea
As if she has worms in hair--The first interesting image. You should consider doing more of this as you drive to the conclusion. It feels a bit clunky with the prepositions. Either "in her" or "for" (if you want a medusa thing going on
Some look her way in horror, --look is the right word but the line is too telling
Some in wrath, she shys away from everyone's path
Beautiful and shy the kids at school whisper as she passes,
Only she hears FREAK, Slut, Crazy.
In class there is no reprieve,
Her teachers ignore her hand for the answer
Looking through her is worse than being glared at
Invisible is miserable
At lunch she sits alone
Stomach to tight to eat
Afraid she will have food and garbage thrown her way
The bell signaling the end of school could not come a second sooner
A rush to home she slams her bedroom door hard
Shaking she knows deep within is where self hate is born
She can not bare to look in the mirror for she fears her own reflection. When she finally does
All she can see is nonexistent self extreme glaring back.

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welcome to my words. Please leave feedback if you are so moved. I am not afraid or shy to answer any questions you may have about poetry or everyday life. Writers are family.

I think you get the idea. Hope it helps.

Best,

Todd