She could never stare, would
Never face that which showed
Despair, it looked back through
All the scars seen but never there.
Beauty was distorted In this
representation of self, Its features
Falsified, an empty reflection
Void of seeing what was truly
There.
She brushed her hair, with eyes
Turned away, not seeing that
Which was denied, which was
her beauty. She only a violation
Of ego of self Loathing in a
Reflection that she never looked
Upon, It was dead to her never
Will she look upon It neither stare.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
She could never stare, would
Never face that which showed
Despair, it looked back through
All the scars seen but never there.
Beauty was distorted In this
representation of self, Its features
Falsified, an empty reflection
Void of seeing what was truly
There.
She brushed her hair, with eyes
Turned away, not seeing that
Which was denied, which was
her beauty. She only a violation
Of ego of self Loathing in a
Reflection that she never looked
Upon, It was dead to her never
Will she look upon It neither stare.
A reflection can breed hate in ones self..
