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Amanda Aug 2013
When someone tells us we're beautiful, why don't we believe it?
Is it because we learned to never see the beauty in ourselves?
Because we are told  that is "self centered"?
What if that is exactly what someone needs to do?
They need to look at themselves in the mirror and think,
"****, I look good."
But the were raised on the notion that that is not okay.
That thinking they look good was "unladylike"
Selfish. Self-centered.
Not right.
So she grew up knowing the fact that she will never be beautiful.
Or gorgeous. Or pretty. Or anything remotely flattering.
That she will always see those few extra pounds on her hips.
Those few extra hairs on her face.

But what if she met someone that changed all that.
Someone that made her see herself through their eyes.
See her reflection as she stares into his eyes, she sees herself change.
Sees her imperfections fall away, like feathers of a dove.
As he assures her there is nothing that matches her beauty, she laughs and rolls her eyes.
But he doesn't give up.
He knows she doesn't see any of what he does.
And she knows he will never give up until she does.
Amanda Aug 2013
The Little Late Girl
Site between rocks and thinks
She wants to grow up.

Height is not wisdom,
She knows this, but is afraid
That the world does not.

The world is not kind
To the ones who are different.
Unimportant us.
Amanda Aug 2013
Razor blades and thoughts
tear us apart as we let them.
We see ourselves as we see no other.
When we look in the mirror, we see our flaws.
The birthmark on our neck only we can see.
The flaws we grew up with.
The imperfections we learned to hate.
The more compliments we receive, the more conscious we become.
The more we try to hide our true selves.
Try to draw attention away from them;
From our scars.
Our wrinkles.
Our past.
Our future.
Our NOW.
Our later.
Until we find that person.
That  one person
Who will break down our walls just to be able to be the one to build them up again once they're with you.
Strive to find and **be that person.
Amanda Aug 2013
That day, she walked through the doors of the dead
And had all the souls rush into her head.
Each one told   a story of death and despair;
Taking one's life, losing one's pair.
Getting beat and dying at his feet.
She had to make it stop. She had to get away.
She needed hope that she could live her own life one day.
Yes she never got younger, for she was only human,
Every day spent living others' last in her head
All because she walked through the doors of the dead.
Amanda Aug 2013
You're like the drug I can't stop taking.
But, my dear, you're no good for me.
A simple gesture is waking
The monster inside that won't let me be.
It tears me down,
Takes the air from my lungs.
I know it expects me to drown
As my hair lies in rungs
Around a pale blue face
No colour or life in the cheeks.
Her life flew by at such a fast pace
And the birds on hell beck with their fiery beaks.
Amanda Aug 2013
Just forget what you've learned
Don't look back to our past.
Just forget what I've earned
You knew in your heart we'd never last.

I'm feeling it now
that you've left me here
But I'll never understand how you
expect me to be smiling ear to ear.

If you're not with me,
my smile fades
and I'll let the water take me out to sea
so I can meet with my friends, the blades

Just one more cut,
that's all I need.
It feels so good.
So good to finally bleed.

I've been holding out for so long
Coming back means I don't have to play along
I'n no longer lost in my mind
But I'm so sorry.

— The End —