When you look in the mirror, what do you see?

What atrosious, mandacious observations do you mentaly scream like a banshee, 

giving yourself this decree. 

What mental abuse do you use to tighten the noose simply because you absoulutly refuse to defuse this bomb that you have set on yourself

These demons that are on the loose

You let them take you

Telling you what you are not

Like a sick and backwards kind of seduce

well hear me out, just for a minute

I know you, you are in desperate persuit, persute for something to take root

To take hold of this heart that you may have and somehow make it into art

May i show you what i see when i look at you?

You... are delightfully chaotic, beautifully exotic, simply and georgiously hypnotic, exquisetly psycotic

You have a messy heart, a reckless soul, reckless mind, but thats ok, as wild and free as rock and roll

You're not perfect no but most works of art aren't reconized for their perfection, no but the fact that they step outside of the statues quo

Because what most people don;t understand is beauty is the complete opposite of perfection

Beauty is without flawless complextion, constant make up objection, or perfect reflextion

It is the connection of heart and soul

True genuine wide spread affection

Without detecton of fear

Fear of imperfection

So what do i see whan i look at you?

I don't see the make up, clothes, I look through

I don;t see your nail polish, those shoes that are new, or that awesome tatoo

I see you


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