That is what we all want to see when we look in the mirror.
Perfection is nothing short of a dream.
We want so much to reach it to have it nearer
But like I said it’s a lie.
That’s why we have the photo shop beam,
The light to our dark tunnel of reality,
That saves us from accepting our true dye.
I was forced to accept my social fatality.
Being different allows invisible targets to appear.
I tried my best to be nice and kind but away kids my age would fly.
Always shunning me because I was big with a shy heart,
They made me feel nothing by self conscious as they sneer
By now you’d think I would’ve acted this part
But from time to time it still stings
So, I hide behind pictures, conducted in precise ways, to appear sheer
Behind makeup and clothes, earrings and perfect toes
I just want acceptance, friends in rings
But being alone for so long really shows.
I accept less praises in my life.
I accept less people in my heart, scared of unknown things.
I’m scared of many things but I am free.
Even though I fear and shy away from everyone’s knife,
I know who’s true, who’s with me and against me.
And it’s okay because I accept anyone, flaws and all even if they judge me.
That is who I am behind it all
And that is who I will always be.