In the quitest corner of her bedroom A woman stares back at the mirror Wearing the latest dark lipstick on trend With her near perfection sharp arced eyebrows And her three inched high heels,
She stood there amazed yet unsatisfied Not only on her outer being but also for her soul, Even with all the planned efforts she made; Regardless the sleepless nights of pure thinking; Imagining possible outcomes for her definition of beauty
Unsatisfied she started to flip from pages to pages Of magazines of models and celebrities in their best glamour She imagined herself in those shoes and glamorous dresses Gradually she added jewelry unto her bare skin And painted her pale face with pink blush and mascara
She became a silent imitator, a copycat in other people's dictionary; An imitation derived from the motivation for beauty She saw upon the perfect photograph of a photoshopped model on the front page; She have become so focus to others à la mode fashion She failed to remember her own creative manners of beauty
This goes on and on and on, it felt like forever; Then the once creative young lady became just like everyone else Up to date with the latest beauty trends; Just like everyone, it inevitably sugar coats her insecurities aside And progressively concealing her own uniqueness.
We grab our blades, and go to war. You cut me up, and I cut you more. I beat your arms, while you flood my head. **** out your words, and I drown instead. Yet you've no bruises, mine are as dim as night. They say it's just darkness, but they can't see your eyes. You mutate reality, and I only help. "Can I get better?" I say; and, farewell--
It's like my demon and I fighting, you know? Idk, I'm weird. All feedback is welcome and appreciated
~ No matter what I say you are bound to repeat it only louder taking away the only thing I have left, my words. I begin to wonder What will you say when nobody else talks? Will they still think you're funny? Will they still think you're cool? What will they think when they find out all your words were mine? ~
I hope one of us falls down a flight of stairs. Preferably me.
Why are you copying me? Doing everything I do. I've seen the way you act, And this will be nothing new.
Why are you copying me? Doing everything I do. What about my opinions and thoughts Are you after those too?
Why are you copying me? Doing everything I do. I don't think you realize, The hell I've gone through?
Why are you copying me? Doing everything I do. Even if you try as hard as you may, What you portray will not be true.
Why are you copying me? Doing everything I do. I'm hurting and broken inside, but I cannot pass that on to you.
I wrote this many years ago while at school. Someone was ruining everything by pretending to be me. Instead of intervening, I did this to get out the feeling of frustration. All is okay now and I couldn't be happier.