I can picture her

sitting on a stool with a cigarette holder

lips painted red, and her legs crossed

glasses perched on the bridge of her nose

as she looks me up and down

the judgment so evident on her face

She blows out the smoke

opening her mouth to speak

a soft song of jazz fills the air

as I stand there waiting

for the harsh words and the punishment

She closes her eyes and leans her head back

lost to the music, but I am still waiting

I start berating myself, saying the things

I believe she would say to me

tearing myself down word by word

until it is just me in the mirror

blinking under the harsh light

criticizing the woman I am

instead of celebrating the woman

I have become

Then I wonder why

my inner critic smokes

Sarah McHatton was passionate about the written word, making her crave literature. She began writing short stories and free-verse poetry. During high school, she published poetry in a literary magazine. Graduating with a BA in English, the voices of other authors help shape her views of the world around her.