Twenty photos taken

Ten are deleted

Five are retaken

Ten show the camera’s reflection on my glasses

The other five look hideous:

My baby cheeks seem to be bulging;

My skin is flushed out;

My nose looks like a glazed tidbit.

No picture can capture the woman I wish to see

The perfection I want is imaginary.

My perfect self has no outer flaws

She has clear skin and a mature image;

She has a toned body with large eyes and full lips;

She is gorgeous and photogenic in every picture

Like those flawless models on my magazines.

She has no insecurities.

But she doesn’t exist.

Those models aren’t real.

I know that,

But I still wish for it.

I am flawed.

I am selfish.

I am greedy.

I want to love and be loved,

But I cannot take a picture.

It screams at my face that I cannot be perfect.

Every picture I see of myself makes my confidence wither.

I know if I continue to think this way,

Then every photo will be trashed.

I hate my insecurities and how I shy away from the lens

I hate hating myself

If I can’t bring myself to love the girl I see in the mirror, in those pictures,

Then who ever could?

So I will

I will love the girl I see

And I’ll will not compare, because –really

There’s only one me

I will refuse to waste away from the insecurities I feel from the lens.

I am who I am

That’s the person I wish to be.

I will not let photos scare me

Nor my insecurities.

I am flawless.

I will let the camera see that

The ugliness and the beauty.

Twenty photos taken

Five are favorited.