Authenticity at it's finest

You know how people

take a look at

themselves

and see the bad, the ugly

scrapes and scars

cellulite and stretched

marks along the craters and curves of the

body

I see all of that and

more, in myself,

as I take a photo for the first

time today, the amazon forests decided to

peek through my eyes

and my red splotchy cheeks

lit up, lifted

the small bags under my eyes

show exhaustian but I will still

go to class, and my lips are chiseled

with missing pieces of skin,

from dehydration.

 

The lighting is toned down,

not highlighted or contrasted,

just soft and vulnerable

like my inside.

 

 
This poem is about: 
Me
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