Is it my fault
That I look at someone
And feel repulsed
By the way their
Body flows?
That I can’t look at anyone
And not rip
And pick apart
Every little flaw they have;
A crooked smile,
Lopsided eyes,
A tilted nose,
Hairy limbs,
Flaky skin,
Tilted lips,
An asymmetrical face,
A too-big forehead,
Puffy cheeks,
A bloated stomach,
Humongous thighs,
Giant arms,
A wide frame,
Bushy eyebrows,
Monkey ears,
Uneven feet,
Messed up hands,
A normality in a flawed creation
Yet it’s all that catches my eyes
When I look at
People in the lifts,
In the shops,
On the street,
In the corridors,
In a home,
In a room,
In the mirror.
“Wrong! Wrong!” My brain screams
In terror
It’s right, I suppose,
That monster in the reflection must be
The consequences of an
Error.

Lost
A voyage of expression
Of pain
An examination of ones own worth
A date with desperation
A way to find solace, identity
The words kept by the heart and abused by the brain
Where dreams go to die and worries come to stay
To be stuck in an endless void
Where warmth is a stranger and coldness a neighbor
To dance with the monsters that dwell in your head
And comfort the ones that live under your bed
A forbidden art with sweet release
To tangle with your own desires
The darkness brings something the light cannot
Courage, anxiety, strength
A candle provides a dim path
The heat from the fire burns
Reminding you of how alive you are
How blissfully free
And how utterly alone