Wish i could find the words without saying another bad word
to explain all the voices that my soul and brain have heard
some are a lie that caused me to cry
dealing with my problems, oh i sigh.
Built my walls too high, for no one can enter
that even i can’t reach in and fly in my main center
dealing with my demons, either if i am awake or dreamin’
i shouldn’t have believe them for they were very deceivin’
people think i’m flying through my life without feeling dying
they were all wrong for i have been trying
i see mirror here, mirror there, which one can i look at and stare
they’ve been my enemy lately, that i can’t love myself completely
i look at her, and it’s such a blur
i know it’s just a reflection but my mind sees all imperfection. compliments of perfection doesn’t help me find my direction.
in my eyes i see my true complexion
but i choose to believe my beauty is base on perception.
i still have to learn that i am worth
every living cell on this earth
that outside appearance doesn’t matter
but what’s inside is so much better.
She can't look in the mirror anymore
without seeing fragments
of a girl who is so lost
she only knows her own name.
Violet bags hide
she wishes to bury
in the deepest part
of her shallow mind.
Red and brown bumps can be covered
in thick war paint
but the deepest scars
are the ones we inflict
A beautiful soul turned inside out,
She can't look in the mirror anymore
the girl from chemistry
has thicker hair,
the girl next door
has smoother skin.
She trembles at the sight of her bare face
and pulls out
the bathroom sink.
When I look in the mirror, all I see is error.
Looking back at me is an unknown face, a disfigured outline I cannot trace.
A broken smile you’ll see every once in a while.
Eyes once a fiery heat like a light, now faded in a dead black and white.
One may shudder to think, how cheeks so pink, could dim to pale within a swift blink.
I have dealt with this before,
I am dealing with it again,
The outer look matters
Rather the taste of inner
The shape and color of a bottle
Looks fancy and appealing
Rather its contents, so bitter
Beauty on face, complexion
Inside a dark, deep infested nest
Ugly and untruthful
Painted figures, expensive makeup
Pleasing to ones eyes
Caring heart, kind soul, unpleasant appearance
Yet, doubtful cries
Whatever is beautiful, matters!
Regardless to the consequences
Most see the outer appearance and judge
Hardly see the innocent smile,
...of the less fortunate
When you talk about nudity
what comes to your mentality?
Is it pornographic or anything sexual?
Well, I can't blame you because that's the usual.
Young I was when I saw two people intercourse
I was in fact aroused and confused with the course
Body's almost perfect and linking in a nasty manner
I realized I was impure and called myself sinner
Years blossomed. Further, I got older and saw people naked
I was shocked with imperfections, My senses awakened
Scars and stretch marks crawling, creeping beneath the flesh
looking at soft bellies and imperfect tones was refreshing
The body, Afterall should be taken as a form of art,
Not a sexual figure to be used, think about one's heart
Vaginas and Penises are just private part for creations
breasts and asses are just only parts to be filled with appreciation
Whether huge they are or not, We are art.
In this society
People would most likely label you
It's either you're poor so there's a limit of things you can do or
You're rich so you can easily have the things you want.
Or it might be you're ugly so it means that a guy won't like you or you're never gonna have someone.
It may be you're fat and people would most likely stay away from you.
Lastly, in this generation, people will like you as their lover, their friend or their 'bestie' if you're 'beautiful'.
● when you have white skin, rosy cheeks, plump-y lips, sexy body, big bottom, and a thigh gap.
That's their definition of beautiful
But, really, beauty is not the APPEARANCE, it's what's inside.
Appearance will fade
but a good heart is fixed.
Do not love me, if appearance entertains thee;
For they are deceptive like an illusion,
Hoodwinking the multitude with splendor,
But inside the core may lie darkness.
Love me, for thou love me
And let that be the reason of your love.
Close thy eyes and stare at me,
Thou shalt see more attractiveness
Than thou shall ever observe.
If thy adoration be proper and genuine
Why is that appearance
matters so much?
This virtual world
expects us to be perfect.
And if we are not,
we just tend to
But why can't we judge
through the soul?
why is that our senses are
so accustomed outwardly
rather than peeping inside
Just between you and me, clowns…are extremely creepy. And whoever decided that clowns were funny and appropriate for children….. Just noooo.
But even though I hate clowns, I’ve seemed to become one. My red smile on a white coat of paint that is my face.
I didn’t always look like this. I used to look like you. But now I have this, A red painted frown plastered on my face and guess what?!
It’s stuck there.
This is not the kind of make up you can just wash off, scrubbing the skin until it start to bleed and I can’t take the pain anymore.
And I don’t just mean the physical pain. I tried to paint another colour onto my skin, I tried to cover it up but I can’t. People still see it, they ask about it as if it bothers them more than it bothers me.
Yes! Of course! Eyes up here remember? Stop staring at it. Don’t ask me about it, it’s been there for too long…
My clown face can scare people. Do I look like a scary person to you? Is there a reason why children are afraid of me? There is still a person underneath this face paint, underneath this skin.
And people say clowns are supposed to be funny, no wonder people find my face so easy to laugh at.
Come on! Tell me it’s funny, TO MY FACE. I dare you, tell me exactly what it is, and why it’s so funny. I can laugh at it too you know, because I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to just laugh it off.
At the end of the day, I decided to visit the house of mirrors. I walk down the hallway mirrors on both sides and I stop in front of each one and stare at myself in the mirror.
I’m not happy with what I see in it. I’m not content with it, I am not okay with this image being forever, I don’t want this to be me forever.
So, one day, I will find a mirror that doesn’t show me like this, and it exist in people’s eyes, these mirrors exist in the people who see me the way I should see myself. So when I look into the eyes of my friends and family, I can see myself, and I don’t look like this.
One day, I’ll find a way to get this red frown off of my face one day I tell myself.
One day, I’ll stop being a clown…. And I’ll start being me again.