[An Instagram Photo] #nofilter

Fri, 02/27/2015 - 01:16 -- kmpdln
it’s 7am and she’s scrolling
picking up her phone before getting out of bed
she’s liking photos for breakfast.
stretching and turning—under covers because there’s something more comforting
in technology that makes
a few hundred likes seem like winning the lottery—“hashtag” no filter.
beneath the black and white sunsets you’ll find sunrises in her smile
even when her captions speak of
grey matter,
but in truth behind adjusted angles and exposures
behind fixed blemishes and awkward postures
is a product of insecurities buried deep 
that the flaws on her face feel like nightmares
and the marks and moles on her body feel like stains of ugly
when they are actually reminders from god that she is beautiful
and a beautiful kind of different
no filter can create
like the one who made her
hashtag no filter
and although there is confidence in her smile
her eyes swallow exhaustion
fingertips arthritis
the beauty in her face filtered with
shades of uncertainty
layered with a false identity
so fixed on pictures and twist and
manipulate the authenticity 
in her cheeks
and yet we are drawn to the light; like bugs as if turning up the brightness on photos
will hide the whispers of i’m tired
or not good enough
just beneath her eyelids
deceiving herself
that she isn’t beautiful when the sun finally sets
it’s already 8am in front of her mirror.
#no filter
but in truth it’s now 1:30pm and she’s eating makeup for lunch
wanting to be noticed just once, just once
but it's too much, and too much
so she doesn’t want to be seen.
hidden, hidden with
contradicting realtities, absorbed in technology
she can’t even fathom a photo without editing
that quotes on tumblr say are pretty
and yet every time she walks by her reflection
all she can think about is why she feels invisible
stared at like she doesn’t fit into this box society is stuffed into.
and so by the time someone comes around
she’s already downloaded the latest apps with the latest filters
deleted every non-edited picture
trying to become her own creator
she’s already scrolled through every picture on her feed
fed with subliminal messages that to be beautiful thin but not too skinny.
thick in your thighs and breasts but tight in your waist and on her cheecks
an unrealistic reality unless you have great genes
#no filter
that whether you are a man or a woman
your image is everything in this narcassistic self-absorbed society
you can’t even go a day without posting a tweet or a selfie
and all for what?
no vsco cam, inkwell, or slumber
no blemish remover, temperature adjuster
no follower tracker, comment remover, perfect lighting
can hide the truth she’s swallowing
the truth that she’s hiding
the truth that you and i are suffocating in
and yet the truth is
we are taught to love ourselves
But in a culture pressing itself against glass bodies
in a place where people adore reflections,
admiring waists, collarbones, and physical features that are 
benefits rather than essentials 
there are some days
there are some days she would rather have a mirror lie than for her to see something she can never be
and yet here we are saying to be real, be organic, whatever you call it, be a hipster
yet we are in a society where we can't put labels, so let’s put a hashtag on it, call it no filter
and you see
self love isn’t bad, but there is a beauty you can’t hashtag
and you see at the end of day
it's something beauitufl describe the look in her eyes, the feeling in her fingers and the confidence in her smile
the pictures of sunsets refreshes the sunsets and the captions her winning that lottery of likes
it's a beautiful thing, a tragedy
this—an instagram photo, #nofilter.
This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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