Today, I am the antithesis of beauty.
I rot at the roots of my hair and I reek of falsified overconfidence.
Today, I have no right answers. I stumble over feelings, cling heavy on each word and fall face first in explanations no one needed.
Today, I walk like lumber. I am doubtful of my passions and my body and my stride.
Today, I am the antithesis of beauty, I deserve to be alone.
I think back so painfully on how light my body traveled, simple traipsing passes of sidewalk lines and inclines I simply mastered.
Today, I stare my own eyes down—
How dare you ever think you had a right to smile? I have to have a **** that everyone can see,
I am a desolate piece of half-self someone alone amongst the sea
Of perfect people and lovely lives.
I spew forth all full of frothing lies to make it seem as though I do not hate the face I gaze with.
Today, I am the antithesis of beauty
And I cannot escape my own painful accusations.