Behind the Filter

The image of perfection

is engraved into my mind like a splinter

makeup, contacts, filters.

Diets, brands, all artificial.

I'm bitter.

Bitter with the reality

We aren't taught to be ourselves,

but instead to hide ourselves

In actuality.


What am I without this mask?

How do I look with no filter?

I've been meaning to ask,

Who am I, when I remove this splinter?


I am small and plain.

My spirit runs free,

like my mind does.

Free thinking.

Old soul.

Big dreams,

in a small world.


I am a wanderer,

behind the tree of social media.

Always smiling,

always hiding.


Why I hide, in a mere picture,

I surely can explain.

I don't hide because i'm insecure,

nor because I am afraid.

I hide my imperfections,

to prevent these things from happening.


I am small and plain.

My soul runs free.

I remove these filters

and let the world see me.


This poem is about: 
Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741