I learned to dim the light in me,
to starve the urge to softly be
the girl who once would stand and glow
for no one’s eyes– just her own soul.
I used to trace my face with care,
not out of need, not out of fear,
but like a secret, tender art,
a quiet language of the heart.
But something shifted in the glass–
it watched me change, it let me pass
through rules that tightened, slow and thin,
until they settled on my skin.
Now every flaw begins to speak,
in tones that make me feel too weak–
pigmented shadows, scattered scars,
like constellations stripped of stars.
Dark under-eyes that will not fade,
a tired truth I cannot shade,
and still they ask me what is wrong,
as if this face does not belong.
As if I’m sick.
As if I’ve failed.
As if my bare self should be veiled.
I’m never whole, I’m never right,
too dull for day, too raw for night,
not polished to their cruel design,
not broken enough to cross the line.
I want no filter, none to hide,
no borrowed glow, no softer side,
just this face, this aching core,
this self I barely know anymore.
And somewhere deep, a voice I knew
now trembles, distant, breaking through–
a wild thing I can’t set free,
a girl I fear I’ll never be.
Life lingers heavy in my chest,
a silent, ceaseless kind of test,
a pull, a whisper, dark and sweet,
that drags me gently to defeat.
For beauty never was the sin–
no, not the light upon the skin–
but needing it to feel enough,
to earn a love, to soften “rough.”
To be desired.
To be seen.
To be exactly what they mean.
And so I stand, undone, unknown–
a face that dares to be its own….
yet feels like something left behind,
a ghost that walks in borrowed mind.
♡ lil-usagi
Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 4:07 PM UTC
I learned to dim the light in me,
to starve the urge to softly be
the girl who once would stand and glow
for no one’s eyes– just her own soul.
I used to trace my face with care,
not out of need, not out of fear,
but like a secret, tender art,
a quiet language of the heart.
But something shifted in the glass–
it watched me change, it let me pass
through rules that tightened, slow and thin,
until they settled on my skin.
Now every flaw begins to speak,
in tones that make me feel too weak–
pigmented shadows, scattered scars,
like constellations stripped of stars.
Dark under-eyes that will not fade,
a tired truth I cannot shade,
and still they ask me what is wrong,
as if this face does not belong.
As if I’m sick.
As if I’ve failed.
As if my bare self should be veiled.
I’m never whole, I’m never right,
too dull for day, too raw for night,
not polished to their cruel design,
not broken enough to cross the line.
I want no filter, none to hide,
no borrowed glow, no softer side,
just this face, this aching core,
this self I barely know anymore.
And somewhere deep, a voice I knew
now trembles, distant, breaking through–
a wild thing I can’t set free,
a girl I fear I’ll never be.
Life lingers heavy in my chest,
a silent, ceaseless kind of test,
a pull, a whisper, dark and sweet,
that drags me gently to defeat.
For beauty never was the sin–
no, not the light upon the skin–
but needing it to feel enough,
to earn a love, to soften “rough.”
To be desired.
To be seen.
To be exactly what they mean.
And so I stand, undone, unknown–
a face that dares to be its own….
yet feels like something left behind,
a ghost that walks in borrowed mind.
♡ lil-usagi
