Morphing reflections{nine months}

What do you want;
  honesty?

Just take a look in the mirror.
It may seem insignificant,
but in reality the power of that image
is unbelievably immense.

It's just like your best friend,
minus the good natured lies.

The mold of silver particles and glass-
stained and cut with a reflection of nothing
(but the cold hard truth.)

Not a sugar coated politeness- but reality;
pure and sharp as Columbia bred cocaine.

And I'm feeling a little tweaked,
with the kaleidoscope of puzzled pieces
scattering my hormones.

With palms pressed gently,
against the uncomfortable swell of abdomen;
I grunt "maybe I should high tail it to California"
where cows are always happy.

Just then, I remember back to nearly a year ago,
I worked my ass off (literally)
to flaunt a size six solly for the lights and cameras;
every young girl dreams of.

And as I danced effortlessly into the poses;
I thought
I've never been more beautiful.

Now my stomach forbids me to squeeze
into even my baggiest jeans.
Protruding so far out,
soon it will seem like an island all its own,
instead of just another state of my body.

And as I look down, I can only sigh
at the disappearance of my toes.
Not to mention the sudden sight of navel
(once so small and round)
is now stretched paper thin and quarter sized.

Fingertips; dismissing the hope of belly button rings,
move on over contorted curves
to find what seems to be a thousand little bumps,
raising flags on territories of MY flesh.

Strange little charting posts;
there, it seems, only to agitate me.
Like Braille screaming to the blind
"this girl is miserably pregnant.

Recording all these changes to memory- I smile
thinking, "look at the bright side"
you always wanted to model Victoria's Secret
in the Double Digits.

Standing stripped and vulnerable
in a full length reflection,
poking at all my self conscious parts.

I think
I've never felt more beautiful......