Discovering the art of truthfulness, as I rest on my bedside, I discover myself surrounded by a cushion filled with falsehoods, where it lies. It's a constant struggle not to shed tears, for my eyes are always overflowing with pools of emotions, drowning away any possibility of finding the inspiration of this word, “beauty”.

My empty gaze, incapable of hiding a disguise, hates the shallow beauty standards that society imposes. We often find ourselves falling aside, overshadowed by the captions that emphasize our flaws,—                 much like the petals that gracefully descend to the ground.

Even when people assert that true beauty resides within,                         life has a way of reflecting our insecurities, mirroring uncertainties and fears. I would sleep for a thousand days, just to dream of a better world,— a world that would regard me as their, “Sleeping beauty."

No, no, no...instead I will awaken to confront another day, on my own terms and standard. And I  bet the world would have plenty to say, but so few are their words, for me to let them spoil my mood today.

           I am beautiful!