The wall stood heavy,
It separated epos in the tale.
Cuts and stains; all around,
Didn't yield to the strongest gale.

They claim the walls were always there;
Before the initiation of time.
Though veiled, unknown, and silent still,
They shaped the lustrous dime.

The breaking of the wall began,
Harmony grew on both sides.
Then came the old guards
An agony of backward tides.

Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflect my sorrows reflect them all
And when I cry when I scream
Reflect the way I think of me

Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflect the way in which I fall
But catch my teary eyes in sight
My eyes of gold reflect the light

Mama is bad
she doesn't look
at my painting
she hides her eye

behind the camera
and in her mind she makes
her own painting
of me

another Helena of me
with blood on her hands
an angry ******
with a cool belly

for hot men
a Confident-Blue
belly despite the voyeurs
at mummy's exhibition

who think they see me
while they fantasise
about a 'fille fatale'
pleasing them

Sometimes I hate my body
But sometimes I feel like a hottie
It's unpredictable how I feel
The feeling of hated can easily steal
It feels like such a crime
But I guess I'll have to take it one step at a time
To relearn to love myself again
Maybe I'll feel like a ten
Having something of my own
Wishing I didn't feel so alone
To feel more confident in that bikini
Sometimes I wish I was just a little more skinny
It's hard for me to see other girls look the way I want to look
But in the end I don't want jealousy in my book
They say the prettiest thing a girl can wear is confidence
I wish I had more of that.

Perfection was created
to make us feel imperfect,
but imperfect, of course,
is the perfect thing to be.

We spend every hour of every day,
every day of every week,
trying to be different,
trying to be unique.

Our nature is to search
for answers to life's questions,
concepts we don't understand,
like "What is perfection?"

You strive to be "perfect,"
a term you don't understand.
You should be yourself
before it gets out of hand.

Surely happiness is of priority
over a word like "perfection,"
so ask yourself this,
who looks back in your reflection?

So you think something

of me, my body, my clothes --


but do you know me?

strands of your hair linger
intertwined with my veins
cold, they were before
now warmth is all they feel

and even though your veins are gone
your temperature remains
my body refuses not to
bathe in your remains

yet, it still shivers
by even just the thought of cold
fearing that what once was gold
will all turn into mold

your veins
are all it yearns for
to it, time is so serene
too quiet to ignore

every blemish on your skin
every word once said
everything that happened since
every gesture, every breath
is one strand of hair
carefully sewn within
a body of despair

I thought that I was going to be swept off my feet,
having the wind knocked from my lungs,
feeling as enamored with you as I did almost ten years ago.

I was wearing that magenta color again, trying to be a version of myself from back then.

Spring and summer are not my seasons but **** when you reached out I knew I had to try.

I wanted to try.

I had reached a plateau of almost overcoming my self hatred and I wanted to be more confident, strong, dare I say appealing?

I felt as though I was at the edge of a cliff, a dangerous precipice:

What if it would be weird?
Really, it was more: what if he thinks I’m worse than who I was before?
Honestly, it was: what if he thinks I’m fat?

Worst comes to worst, I would just leave- vanish mysteriously without even saying goodbye.

When I saw you I felt so light, happy-
it was as if you were exactly the same.
I mean honestly you still looked so good.
I kept saying: “It’s like you haven’t changed at all”.

And you said: “I have been so worn down”,
And that shook me and made me really look at you differently.

You are such a humble person.
You are so interesting and insightful and talking with you makes me feel like I am meeting you again for the first time.

Seeing you again brought up so many feelings, but the strongest ones were that I wish I would have gotten to really know you back then instead of being obsessed with the idea of who you were. Or who you could have been to me.

I want to get to know you better, now that we both have grown into who we really are.

I’m proud of you.
You are proud of me.

Amazing what almost ten years can do.