I am smiling too wide,

I am looking too directly at the photo lens

Click. Click.

I tilt my head just a little bit further and I will feel pretty

Click. Click.

Too bright. Delete. Too shiny. Delete

These pictures are just representations of myself, 

This is not the real me this is not who I am

I am strong like the women of my bloodline who fought to bring me here

I am smart like my father who reads words sucking them into his brain as if he can make up for his mistakes

I am beautiful just like the flowers my grandmother planted in my front yard she is gone yet they remain.

These pictures,

These filters,

Hide who I am, they try to mask me to make me something else

But I will not allow this,

I will stand strong in front of my mirror,no filter allowed

I will smile my crooked smile,

Run my hands through my wild hair,

Let my stomach be larger than society says it should.

I am me and this is a beautiful thing to be.