I stand in the bathroom looking in the mirror.

A brush of mascara, a sweep of eyeliner, a touch of blush

all over my skin covered in pale powder.

I take a picture. Flash! Flash!

I look at girl on my screen. She is beautiful and anyone would think so.

A complete model, the perfect package.

But I am not that pretty girl. Wearing that dress from Hollister, makeup from Covergirl, and

shoes from Steve Madden.

I see the wrinkles, the bags and dark circles.

I see the acne and pockmarks.

I am not perfect. I have more weight than that picture.

I am not that complete package, that model.

I see sweats, loose tshirt, messy hair.

I see the sleep loss and acne.

 I am glad to see mysef with no filter.

For with a filter I am not myself. 


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