Beauty.
The standard goal.
Society kills me.
They tell you to “be yourself, you’re beautiful”
Judge you for it,
Then encourage you to do it again.
Who are they to decide?
In fact, who decided the status quo,
What determines true beauty?
They say everyone’s beautiful in their own way,
But that’s just the appetizer.
The main course is the “fact” that everyone’s different,.
And in order to achieve the standard level of “perfect”,
“Buy this item! It’ll make you more perfect, I swear!”
“Wear these clothes, it’ll complement the parts of your body we’ve defined as
‘Attractive’!”
“Do these workouts, it’ll give you a flatter stomach, tighter abs, a sexier beach body!”
The fact that they took our weak spot,
Perfection
And dangled the idea,
The possibility in front of us
To sell their products
To keep us coming back, to make money
Because, let’s be real, money’s everything.
They convince us that we can achieve something that doesn't exist,
But we want it to,
We hope for it,
Because….what?
Looks are everything?
No.
In 80 years, we’ll all look old and weird, so what’s the point?
Look good everyday,
Hope someone finds you attractive,
Potentially fall in “love” with somebody who only desires your looks?
If that’s your goal, ***, you've got your priorities mixed up
Life’s not gonna care whether you’re
Attractive,
Ugly,
Skinny,
Thick,
Short,
Tall,
Smart,
Stupi­d,
Or the greatest person alive.
It’s gonna knock you down no matter what,
And in 120 years, we’ll all be dead anyway.
Why waste your time hoping to accomplish a false reality,
So you can live your years in luxury,
Rather than just being thankful and happy?
Don’t spend your time trying to get to what you don’t even want,
But have been programmed to accept.
Re-program yourself.
***** the system.

Her psyche inhaled and imbibed me in
As her universe is like a Monet of modern strokes!!!
I felt an electrical jolt!!!

Trembling with every thought of him
I ache a love I can never achieve
I hold my emotions captive in this dreadful tin
I mean no harm, I just love, will it **** you to believe?

I’m not trying to take him from you
My heart is red and not blue
He’s something completely out of my reach
His heart is extremely difficult to breach,
you’re the only gifted one here
don’t worry it’s not that difficult to bear
or maybe it just is...

I have but accepted my place
within the zones of friendship
I've only suffered from a fallen grace
and a heart which has been ripped
But who cares about the shattered love
Maybe it’s just the one above
God Almighty,
I shall never doubt thee
For he knows best

Come to think of it,
What have I lost?
Nothing to be exact
It is he who lost something
something real and true;
my love that is.

-fir.m

Fascinated by such trivial matters
I look at them in astonishment
I watch their every move
With symphonies embedded in my eardrums.

What does it feel like?
To show?
To care?
To know?
To feel? ..

Do they stop to think?
That it's more than them
Having classes and relationships to tend to
More than who's wearing a prada or gucci
More than what's there to see
And to just notice the unseen
Feel the unseen
Be the Unseen.

-fir.m

He approached
She smiled
He spoke
She listened
He held out his hand
She grabbed it
He made promises
She made promises
He smirked
She believed
He took her out
She went with him
He said “I love you”
She meant “I love you too”
He gave her flowers and chocolates
She gave him her heart
He took more than it
She gave it
He enjoyed her
She enjoyed watching him enjoying her
He came often
She loved that
He came seldom
She ignored that
He stopped coming
She stopped smiling

He left her
She left us.

-fir.m

Now i'm wearing this smile that i don't believe in
And inside i feel like screaming
     I had options;
     You were my chance to completion
     And when you leaned close to kiss me
     There was drowning melancholy
     But I kissed my fears; instead of you
And now towards me you've grown blue.
Eventually my heart gone sore
And i'm drowning in a water-less floor
It hurts to acknowledge the feelings that I hide
Fearing that destiny would not abide
It's not your fault, i swear
It might just be too hard to bear..
For who would truly love a girl with all these scars?

-fir.m