self image

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I’m really proud of the person I’m becoming. I’m constantly advocating for my rights! Even in situations where I should just keep quiet… My grades are really good right now!
When I was little My grandmother use to say " weeping may endure for a night but Joy comes in the morning " She also wasn't lying when she said " I didn't have any friends "
My spirit emanates positive vibes through me. Good nature so pure it shines bright for all to see that its a genuine part of me.
Someone told me to write a song about confidenceBut it's something I have a problem withWhat's the point in believing in yourselfIf you continue to get help from someone elseI tryI cryI look up to the sky
  C-o-l-l-e-e-nI’d sound out the letters when I’d write them Tiny hand flexed ungracefully around a crayon. Words, form from bold strokes.
From the crashing waves of mother's birth came a pale shiny rock resting on the sandy pillow of earth. A miracle conceived, a marvel to see
It begins with: 3 sisters with familial love built from brick, 6 hands encumbered with budding sunflowers, 6 feet that were miles from homesick, and
My heart is heavy asking will I ever  be good enough for myself. When I look at myself why do I peer through my reflection like it’s nothing?  Like I am nothing. Even when I say I am good enough and 
The weight of words are incongruent Despite the efforts you made Your’s were never deemed confluent   The illusive link and its many herrings
thanks to society she learned to hate her body "youre skinny" you must be anorexic  oh youre not okay heres an extra burger you need it honey your hairs not perfect   you must not care what you look like
I’ve gotta get out I can’t take much more of this Can’t leave my own mind   I say I’m tired Partially true, but also Not everything  
                      When I look at that face there is nothing in. This world more clear then what I see, this is someone who’s achieved nothing. A being so afraid to change it does nothing but stare.The embodiment of sadness and anxiety.
How do you write something happy that's also good?   My efforts always seem to fall short when I attempt to write about how the sun feels on my skin, because that skin contains scars
Face's, so many I see what is real anymore
Kinky they say,  Too curly to be cared about.   But the coil is my culture; Constantly defined unattractive,   Under-appreciated efforts, Tragically tainted tries.  
I want to be more than what can be seen When the double sides face me And all that falls upon my eyes is my own image At least what the glass shows Some see me as one thing
Just like Father, With strength in my shoulders, Compassion in my veins, Others in my thoughts, I am one-track-minded.   Just like Mother,  With determination painted on my face,
I'll be satisfied once I can see all my bones pressed against my skin. Society taught me that you're only beautiful when you're paper thin. They say that beauty is only skin deep
Poetry taught me how to be proud of myself When I used words that expressed things heartfelt A message that I believed in.   Poetry taught me how to express Things that I couldn’t naturally profess
I'm tired of planting seeds I wanna see them fruiting trees But would you get down on your knees To make your ego small as a bumblebee? I need you to pollinate these ideas for me  
I look in the mirror And do not recognize The reflection Which stares back at me directly. Who have I become? She is not who she once was
sometimes i find i want to press myself in a book like a flower to flatten my spine so my shoulders can be higher   but if my body wasn’t fragile
My therapist once asked me what I thought when I heard the word “beautiful” I cringed and sank back into my seat and uttered one simple word - disgust
I cannot wear the red blouse. Lines that defined my curves taunted my eyes Blurry tears dripping as I ran faster into dusk To fit into a teenage concept of “sex appeal”  
Dear Insecurity,  We've been friends for what seems like too longI'm but a child, with youTuggingPullingDragging me along
Dear Confidence,   It has been a while since you have surfaced up and joined me. I would say I missed you, that I really need you. But you decide to back away in many important times of need, why?  
To a Certain Skeletal Sickness     Dear Ana, you know your devastation on me.   When you take a physical part away, you also steal my soul  
To the Church that raised me, 
like the seats on the bus in the morning, be occupied  be taken up with warmth  with different stories  and different perspectives  be overpopulated  because when the takers come to take
the sky and i are alike you know, we burn shades of red  and shades of blue with purples in between thoughts are unclear  like the moon and the stars hidden from view polluted with darkness
things fall apart but that is only the start  of a journey that may last days  or years  full of things, only you can hear  you travel down a path made of gravel encrusting you with scars 
blooming from my darkest parts begun the change in my heart shifting with sunshine my flowers are growing, wisdom and knowledge flowing showing me my power & potential
Where should I begin?No one wants a world tour where you see all the ugly parts,So this won't be much of a tour.But let's pretend that in this world -Me -There is no ugly.
Dear Me,   Listen to, the click click click of power walking up those steps. From her red high heels to her skinny jeans, she ain’t one to cower.
You say you see the eye color, the nose shape, and face lines of my fatherNo matter how much I stare, I see himThe blood running through my veins shares the same DNA as him
To my younger self,
Dear Bully, We haven't spoken much since middle school,  I'm sure you've noticed. Or perhaps you haven't noticed. The only thing that I am truly sure of is you used to notice me every day.
they never saw the real me the one i hid away in my closet buried with the things i hid from society tied her up and taped over her mouth so no one would hear her scream   i remember being happy
I am a canyon carved with water-worn cracks;The weight of other people always breaking my back.
Created for relationship - that's what they say. Severely precious. Always enough. Captivating. Longed for. Loved. Fought for. Full of potential. Bought at the highest price.
Do you remember the night that guy told you that you were the eighth wonder of the world? Why can’t you see yourself like that? Why do you insist on repeating the words of the past in your head countless times a day?
The world is judgemental When I was younger And people called me stupid I would ignore or call it back
I hear the clamorFrom behind the door.I hear the shouting,The racket, the roar. I long to silenceThe voices outside,And the strength inside meSays, “God will provide.” They fight and argue;They can’t get along;It’s like they’ve forgotten You,When
Here on this broken ground I stand, Flipping through the pages of history books. I see evidence of God's loving hands, Over a land that God they forsook.   America the beautiful, 
Faith & Confidence: Real Within Ourselves   Worry not, for tomorrow Will be brighter---- The sun shines in Your corner Dare not with uncertainty Dare with a dream  
If you asked me to describe who I was last year I could not tell you Even she would not have the words to depict herself She had no clue Insecurities and emotions skewed her self-image Until she grew
Three hundred and sixty five days are enough to make you a different person. Enough to make you grow, enough to knock you down, enough to make you live. These days are filled with hope, despair, luck, Lessons.
The curtains rise on the acts of my life, And already there's confusion among the crowd. Nobody's bullied me. Nobody's pushed me, Nobody's jeered, Nobody's called me names,
Padded locks lining the door frame, Keeping the monsters outside at bay. Attempting constantly to have monsters tamed,
See, society has taught us that everyone is beautiful in their own way You know, except the ones with no thigh gaps and no chiseled cheeks The ones who don’t have collar bones or a flat tummy
There is a room And in this room there are two boxes One box is big and the other box is small, Impossibly small, And you take a step forward To look at these boxes.
I want to leave it all behind  Eyes, faces, minds  See me defined Not by what I do But what I did  And pay no attention to the person I've hid. Somewhere. Behind the mask of who they want.
There's a battle out there- this world's got a scheme To take the 'you' and replace it with 'me' That's what they call the Hollywood machine- It just starts with one flaw may never have seen
Forgive me,  but I have such a hard time believing that you're being sincere. I feel my fingers rattling— tapping other bones, nervously checking my phone,
Someone who can't make up their mind. Unable to tell yourself that you can do whatever you want. Maybe you are what everyone says you are.
Just because you cannot see the scars does not mean that they are not there. It does not mean that the thought did not cross my mind like the blade crosses your skin.
I can't tell if the war between acceptance and fear is raging around me or inside of me. Cries for peace surpass my lips, but my voice isn't loud enough. With so much to say, 
My gaze is set forward on the quicksilver-brushed glass as I examine every mountain and valley of the lightly freckled porcelain skin painted on my face; I come to a standstill
Have you ever felt alone?Like there's all these people around you at work or schoolSmiling and laughingWith their friendsAnd theirBest friends.
the dermatologist tells me i'm not defined by my skin.   in my head, i laugh a little.   i am not defined by my skin, this woman tells me, as i'm crying crocodile tears,  
This is a poem that my friend, Veronica, and I wrote. Hope you enjoy! Your feedback would be greatly appreciated. (:     Thick   You called me that Tonight. I opened myself up
And I expect you to hold me together when my bones are dense with the heavy sadness                       that weighs down my shoulders. And I want
We look in the mirror and see nothing but flaws We tears ourselves apart because society defines the laws   Bags under our eyes and a nose too large or too small We are completely appalled  
The sky was self-conscious- she'd always been She'd change her form just to fit in She'd keep her head way up in the clouds So no one could see the scars she hid Because nobody knew that the sky was sick
Author's Note: I am extremely proud of this poem. I entered it into San Mateo's City Arts contest and recieved an honorable mention, and didnot have any intention, and did not follow the theme. So I hope you all enjoy this poem.
How could anyone love her? A single moment in time, her head is tilted back in laughter Used to disguise the moments later where the tears are from something more fragile.
LISTEN, who told you that God could not be a woman?I am almost 6 feet under my own fearsand I have no holy power to turn tothat is a reflection of me.Who shoved their generationally skewed
ValidationThis is the only thing I needWhen I have itI can finally feel secureAnd only with itDo I feel safe-It's comparable to an addictionIt keeps away my demonsIt makes me unafraid
  To the people who said they were my friends then completely ruined me: Thank you.   Thank you for totally destroying my ability to trust anyone.
The advertisements on the television screenSell sex, beauty, creamsA pill for your misery“Oh, you don’t look like a photo shop lie? What’s your alibi?You should love your body naturally, but only if you look like me!”
i’m beautifulbecause i demolish my poltergeistswith syllables that pulse under my skin,a crescendo of the ivory keyswhen the tempo is accelerando;because i can and willopen your cranium
The day the mirror spoke the truth to me was the day I fell asleep proudly with my hair wrapped up and my satin pillow case lied neatly at the top of my bed  
I could pass an hour telling youwhat’s wrong with me, delving into every nook of my weaknesses, every cranny between my ribs. I could pass a day, if
I walk a path both dark and dreary As I ponder long, worn and weary: Who am I?   Love I’ve found and lost again
writing about myself isn't easy, you see i'm a shy girl, it takes a lot for me to reveal to you the imagery i create in my head, every second, every minute, every hour, every day.
Dear me:
I am beautiful. Some may choose to call me “vain” or “conceited” for this but they don’t understand. I choose to call myself beautiful because sometimes I fail to see it.
Am I real? Am I crazy, shy? Am I smart, weird, ugly, snarky? Am I nice, patient, a good friend, bad. A suck up, a tattle, a klutz, a loser. Who am I? I am a perception. An idea formed on limited knowledge and interaction.
I am I am nothing but I can eventually be something I am two eyes and heartbeat and mouth that is full of words I am the heart that beats inside of me and the blood that pumps through my veins
On the street, people turn around to look at me. Not because I'm a muscle stud that a thirsty girl would love to meet, but a man with a crazy personality and an addiction to bowling and sweet tea. Unlike sweet tea,
The story of a girl who lost herself, only to find that she hadn’t gotten lost; she simply misplaced her importance.
Awesome Is... Having your very own bedroom A paid phone bill Smiling in the face of danger A surprise from your sweetie Dangling on the edge, knowing you have a friend to catch you
Why is it that Mother Nature Blesses the winter With an ivory coat and Blesses the spring
So many photos that compliment your curves until I compliment your curves.. "Swerve" you say I've somehow fallen into a pool of not acknowledging your worth..
Teenage angst, women wearing spanx to insecure to say thanks can’t take a compliment their disaster’s imminent don’t really know if this is relavant but im doin this for the hell of it
Do you know what it's like To wake up every morning to the same damn ugly face To look in the mirror and wish that your body wasn't so blemished with scars and imperfection
I stand before the mirror And all I see is an error A bloody X across my being Telling me this ain’t worth seeing.  
You are not a second choice, 
We enter this world small and fragile Taught to glide under another's shadow
Who am I I ask as I gaze into the clear blue sky What makes me unique My personality, I think I am a little bit of everything All rolled into someone who cannot sing I feel the music in my body though
i'm not perfect and neither are you. but maybe the first step towards getting the right view of ourselves is to stop putting just our filtered face forward and pretending that we are.
Let’s get something straight I’m prettier than you You’re not prettier than me And that’s how it’s always going to be Insert Hair Flip Here Oh I mean {Hair-flip}   You don’t like that?
Behind the filter is a girl A girl who has been through the hells of growing up Behind the filter is insecurities Insecurities the girl doesn't allow to define her Behind the filter is compassion
Imperfect flesh and bones are a cage for the bile and putrid smell of a rotting self image that is     crooked                and                         uneven  
Oh!  There it is,The blood of my Mothers’SinsBlossoming onMy white sheetsLike a bouquet of English roses.A shame -Laundry day hadBeen yesterday.  My thighs have been painted
I look in the mirror to see if it cures,
Mia whispers that I could be better. Ana shouts at me to pull it together. Mia says she wants what is best.
I fill my lungs  With the nebulas and stars. Breathe in the frost of the moons, Exhale the rays of the suns. I let my eyes dance like stars In the cosmic heavens above.
I say fuck the people that so called “raised-me” Really the don’t give a fuck about me lately Should I talk it out with them? I don’t know, Maybe But in this stage it seems impossible
Pictures are worth one thousand words and smiles can hide one million.  No one is as they seem. So I smile, pretty as a picture, and hide struggles that are mine to bear and no one else's to know.
Ten. I can't stand myself sometimes but honestly who loves themselves one hundred percent of the time? Pictures are worth one thousand words but smiles can hide one million.
Chains constricted a man sporting a mask.The mask concealed his twisted Shadow.The Shadow's misery an agony: the chains.  
I am me. Who am I? I am me. Unique and full of pride. Blessed with a good family. Friends that warm the heart. Pets that cuddle. No one can ask for more... Who am I. I am Happy.
I think To be “strong” is to be Miserable. To be “strong” when you feel your weakest, Is to destroy one self. I have never felt my “Strongest” when I’ve had to Pretend
There will always be pain in Beauty, But I still don't know how victory looks like. Beauty sounds so close, But temporarly comes & goes.
I don't ask for much, I don't expect much either, Not from you anyway, All I really want Need From you is Your acceptance. Am I asking too much? Because you're making it Seem so.
Who knew one person could feel so many things but never say a word?
She used to be beautiful. The kind of beauty that Really mattered- A kind soul, Self-worth found in every moment And the courage to stand up for those who can’t defend themselves,
Tis' not a poem of his sparkling eyes
Her reflection appears and she wants to cry But she remembers how she looks in his eyes He floods her mind with things she once thought lies Her heart fills up with butterflies
Like a Spartan, bombarded, I go chargin' through gardensNo cigars, no guitars, just a smart pen, from bargains
When you meet an open person,
i am my own women from my heart and my soul  i am my own women and dont need to be told  from the smile on my brown lips  to the curve of my thick hips  i am my own women  some people say that i am too big 
To tweet, or not to tweet - that is the question: Is it wiser to follow the crowd, sharing my every thought and action Or stand alone above the fray. To tweet, to expose - my personal life-
You have to finish your homework before you can watch T.V.
Many times at night a little girl wonders, What in the world is she fighting for? Disney told her love But her parents said success And everyone else said just to fit in So she tried to look inside
Without all the make-up and accessories This is me Without all the lights and glamorous things
  Of all the dreams I dreams I think about my self-esteem It might me high, it might be low Just talk to me, so at least you’ll know
If you tell me some guy is “a dick”, I will inform you that no, his name is Charles. If you go on to say that Charles is “happy to see me”, I’ll wonder how you know. His roll of mints, the pencil,
  To be heard, is to be loved  to be heard is to be loved. 
The Animal inside has changed Grown timid from the drugs The light bearer gives once
A Failure, A Reject, A Nobody. I will never again be Able to achieve my dream. Eventually, I will be Stuck here, doing nothing. I will never let myself be Put into a position like that again.
What makes us the way we are? The things we wear? The people we hang out with? The things we like? Or is it simply the things we do, say, or the way we act? I believe that the world has a way of shaping us all.
Ask the girl in the glass how she survives on just air. Ask her, how does she last when she devours nothing but despair? And remorse coats her every attempt to ignore what she sees,
I might look content  Or seem happy I wear a smile upon my face I hold my head high  Just like my mother told me  It may seem like i have a lot of confidence 
I’ve been hurt I’ve been beat Been drug down by my feet-- I’ve been crying I’ve felt raged Tried to put down all the right words on the page-- I’ve felt the darkness of the bottom
My braids
This is not just a hobby No, this is therapy THis is my private counseling session Poetry is the classroom and my pen is the lesson And my mind is the curriculum and I am the board of education
I stand, as still as can be, and acceptingly watch as universal energy flows energy in and out of every fiber of my being.
The vibes you give off cloud my judgment You don’t stimulate my creativity Instead of being independent Like the sun in the midday sky I’ve become like Many a star in your galaxy Your “wolf pack”
a tunnel a tunnel that is deep
Change, change, change. What would I change about my appearance?What would I change about my life?What would I change about my world?
There is but a tapestry Woven over the years Laced with the delicate lives Of all those who lived before me   I am but a single thread Spinning endlessly until My end, just a piece
YOU SUCK, YOU SUCK, YOU SUCK.   I want to cover my ears from these words but  they arent actually being said. It's all in my head.  
They called her names They laughed as she cried They pretended to be friends with her They filled her head with lies   She believed their words She took it to heart
Permanant marker X's  All across her mirror She stands in the same spot  And looks at every error  Like a wrong answer  Like a failed assignment  But at least she won't have to look 
I came today to solely pick up the milk and eggs But leave feeling queasy in both my head and my legs. This is such an innoent and frequented place But all people suffer, unless made of lace  
I can't chase my demons, they've tied me too far down.   God would not forgive me, I don't deserve his crown.   What if I walked into the ocean? If I mysteriously drowned.  
“Hey, do you know Jenn?” “Which one?” “You know, the little one?” “Ohhhhh yeah that one, why?”   Descriptions of me are facinating I wonder how many times I can cycle through the system
Girls today have no respect for themselves,
I am a bird entrapped in its dark cage waiting for a man who is my age if I could change one thing it wild be
No one is  good enough  for anyone  anymore.  "You can't be:  too weak, too strong, too skinny, too fat, too shy, too confident, too pretty, too ugly,
If I could change one thing it would be the way people see themselves. Short Fat Skinny Tall That's all anyone ever sees.   But you know what's also there? How their eyes light up
Society whispersAbout who we are required to be.Society tellsUs that we, as human beings,Who try our bestTo be ourselves-Conforming to another lie-
I would change myself my hair, my face, my life- Or try to at least   Shoot for perfection when perfection is warped and pretend. The clown mirror hangs, glaring at me   Taunting me,
He came at me with pain, uttering my name If only to remind, that our names were the same I couldn’t look up, towards such disdain For it was me in that mirror, that I wanted to change
I would change your perception, My perception, I would change the perception of the world, I would throw out all the bad: The diet pills, the steroids, the magical items that don't work,
Mirror mirror on the wall,  you make these girls feel very small. Megan Fox and Brittany Snow the faces we all love and know.  Everyone loves a size two, how come that isn't you?  
I am one pursuit in hundreds of recruits. I am in one family in a world of two billion families. I am on one planet in one galaxy of limitless galaxies:
friends, parents, teachers,  all seem to have only one thing to say to a child desperately seeking advice: "just be yourself!" it becomes the core theme of children's shows on disney or nickelodeon
These delicate lumps of of tendons, muscle, bone Carry on for mile, miles all alone. As their master's eyes close To escape from it's woes, These small little toes will keep fluttering along.  
 Seeing past the face, you put on like you have to be ashamed of 'you' . . . .Can't you see you're beautiful
“Mirror, mirror on my wall Who is fairest of them all? I know it not to be me With how I look, how could it be? I am not thin or sweet or smart. I do not look like a piece of art.
I am in the ring,A death corner shaded in blueI am thirsty for a fightMy opponent stares and grins back at meIt has no face, no form, but its still there
Everytime I look at you, my feelings always differ. Whenever I see you, and I feel happy, it puts a smile on my face. Whenever I see you, and I get upset, the entire world is out to get me.
I keep walking no where, As if there is something I’m looking for, I see the people around me, They’re real, Without faces, And still real. Why I’m this way,
It has been engraved into my brain,carved onto the tips of my nails,sewn into the seams of the clothes that I wearthat I am the future and I crave for change because I am the heart of a revolution.
I feel the heat on my back scorching where my wings could be. Should be. I bite and I kick
 Power.. How is it that whenever someone has it.. It consumes them? To think you are better then others. To put them down until they are the dirt you step on as you walk To destroy your enemies left and right with a grin on your face To crush ever
I've always been a litte small, I've never been super tall, my voice is light and gets carried away by the wind. Sometimes I forget who I am, Sometimes I forget what I want.
Trying to view yourself through the lenses of others leaves you confused.   All you see are blurred images distorted in their mind's eye.   And that light that you see inside yourself?
The world is more vivid for you Then me, Trapped in the mono-green, Womb of the earth. Watching you all scurry by Seeing more with your naked eye
Look at society and see the reflection in the mirror isn’t finished.All because you weren't "blessed" to meet the criteria of the "image"-  Straight teeth, long hair, size zero waist, 20/20 vision.
Murderer Is a big word for what you are You kill someone everyday Their name is on YOUR birth certificate It's disgusting It's vile It's simply human nature
I'm hungry. But who really cares, because these leggings don't fit. My head hurts. And you can't take pills on an empty stomach. The world feels fuzzy. I wish I had the power
I’d rather be known by no one and loved deeply by one person than being known by everyone and not close to anyone. It’s a curious desire to be known, because it seems to nothing for oneself. Yet it’s craved by nearly everyone.
I go to the mall all Alone. Scuffed up sneakers, old blue jeans. Headphones in. This way, I’m like an eagle above the earth, Observing the world from afar. See the young couples holding hands.
No one knows I haven’t eaten in weeks; I try my best to act normal; Within this sickness, I have reached my peak; Just waiting for my turn to fall; Sometimes its not so easy to hide; And some begin to get suspicious; But I will continue to push al
My reflection stares back in pity I reject it And then it hit me; The truth is No matter how much they sell My legs won’t grow and my lips won’t swell My cheekbones won’t rise
Why am I hurting myself? Mental damage feels worse than physical damage And I keep going at it. I beat myself up everyday. ‘Why didn’t I do that?’ ‘Why did I react that way?’
It is cold here, but my throat burns with anguish and self-hatred. My body failed more than it was appreciated. A beautiful, red ribbon holds me to the ground.
As I stare at the blank page in front of me, life is breezing me by People change, people love, get married, grow old and die Yet I am still here. Staring at this blank page.
Today, I ate a half an apple. Today, I stared at myself in the mirror, saw the jutting of my hips, the mountains of my shoulder blades, and the hills and valleys my ribs made. I saw With my own eyes My body
All my life I have struggled All of time I have fought Every day a new battle Every hour a new loss I'm no soldier or fighter Not a hero at all Just a person imprisoned In a mind not my own
Never really felt like I was needed around I'd clown too much, always frown and feel left out. I begged for attention, though never realized by most. i tried to fit in, but always gave up hope.
I’m a master, a pastor, a preacher of time. Don’t get it twisted, I’ve got humility and empathy, I’m not saying I’m the best, But I’ve learned, done, and forgotten more than the next.
What I wanted was a life normal to every other I fell victim to the mirror, the rest just makes me shutter I quit making friends, and made my body crumble Every meal was a war, magazines made me stumble
Crawling out of her cracked shell of skin, she is writhing against the body that gives her life. Too tight! Too tight! she shrieks, suffocating in her prison and dreaming of bursting free -
Your opinion of me is so important that I will destroy myself in order to gain your acceptance. I will stop eating so you will think I am skinny. I will wear three pounds of make-up
It's 8 a.m. and I wish I were blind. I could spare myself the pain of staring at a reflection dying to change, trapped in this body. I wouldn't have to wear my worn skin,
I am not beautiful. More like the Chernobyl accident than a butterfly unfurling its wings. I am radiation, making the surrounding area unlivable, still to this day. I am stagnant, vacant.
A green-skinned apple in your eye, An autumn sunset, a sweet pink sky, Who, with that mouthful of stars, Breathes summer on your meanest scars, And, with those long-fingered hands Always busy, lets you stand:
The media force feeds us lies that we need material things to fit in and survive, but what ever happened to personality and being yourself to thrive? It went down the drain along with being thankful and respect.
A time of green, the flower not yet plucked. A young gent lost, innocent, untouched. The carnal mood of dark and whispered place. Damsel of dreams did tempt him to the race.
Come down to the river Come watch with me See the ripples and the flow Of the water as it goes As what goes? Your mind Set it free. Find peace Peace where? Out there, on the rocks;
When I first danced I was an elephant Heavy and stomping and swaying my heavy tusks, The Duck would tell me "No No No! Don't stomp step lightly" and so thus I became a gorilla.
As a bird She flies away With the setting sun Brave and radiant With a burning soul And determined heart She soars far above Any distress that could reach her Brave enough to face the future
(poems go here) why do you so desperately seek attention? I just want to gather you all for an intervention It's a problem--- Epidemic
Trying too hard, she knows. Promises made to self are broken she holds herself together inside her heart beats slow, distant. They're all lies. But is the truth any better?
My mother’s embrace is my home and in her arms I am never alone. People attack me with words, words that pierce my soul like daggers. I am not fierce nor am I bold so I cannot help the tears that pour like rain as I am in pain.
Dying Uniqueness: The Ill-Favored Girl I feel like dying She feels like crying
In what sense, is someone beautiful? Who defines the worthy outlines Of a young girls troubled face As she stares enviously At the women who gracefully stride “Perfect” all over her unguarded thoughts?
I may not be thin But I am still beautiful I may have some scars But I am still human I may be gay But I am not a whore I may believe differently than you but that doesn't make me stupid
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