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.