When you are asked to draw yourself,
You look in the mirror to inspect your subject.
You decide that adding and taking a few things here and there
Couldn’t hurt, could it?
You draw to your hearts content
Until you finish, satisfied.
Satisfied that you are drawn as the one you want to be, beautiful.
You stand in front of the mirror,
And look at your art, look at the being you want to be.
You are as you want to be drawn, but
It might as well be a portrait of someone else
Because it isn’t you.
It doesn’t have your beauty that reflects in the mirror.
You cannot add what isn’t yours. You can’t take what you have
And let it fly through the wind to find someone else.
You are not a surgeon of wanted beauty,
wanted beauty you think you don’t have.
You can erase what you have drawn
Yet not what you have as the beautiful person you are
And you can fix your drawing
You can make it you
You can give it beauty no-one else has.
You can dislike your eyes,
Thinking you have the iris’ of mud, of rain water
But that is only because you have the tears of disappointment
That blur your vision, making you incapable
Of seeing your beauty
The beauty within.
You cannot compare to a sponge
That soaks up the insults, the words.
The lies.
A raindrop.
Like a raindrop, you are original, no-one can compare to you
But you can’t compare to a raindrop
You aren’t clear like water, you aren’t invisible
Because someone can see you
Someone can see your talent, your love.
Your beauty.



Make the one who see's these traits you.

-WillowtheHetalian