If looks was

The Criteria

Then

Even you didn't

Qualify .

This plainess that I feel right now,
is really quite an art.
The people yelling feverishly are all but just a part.
A part of this humongous ocean tide called life.

It seems like just a day ago, I felt I needed more
I needed visibility, love, and more, more, more.
It feels like just the purity and carelessness of life
is that what I so needed in my attempts at living life.

It turns out you dont have to worry
you don't have to think
about your looks, who loves you and about what you should think.
Apparently this stillness, this plainess that's inside,
this easy going carelessness that you don't have to hide
is just what people notice about you wanting more
about you craving love and attention and what's for you in store.

They'll crave for your attention
and will want to be with you.
It's funny how instead of you
They're the ones craving more.

appearances are everything
we are always told about inward beauty
but people will see what they want to see
we are judged on how we look
not on who we are
we are in a masquerade ball
where everyone is not who they appear to be
never really knowing who somebody is
i guess we will never know who they are
if we can't look past how they look

Sometimes I feel comfortable in my body,
and sometimes I feel like ripping off my skin.
At times I like what I see
I like what I wear
but then again at times I feel
like shattering the mirror and
the images in it.
Sometimes I feel like ripping off my hair
removing the fat with my bare hands.
But then I feel stupid for whining about
something so trivial.
because it's the inner beauty that counts
isn't it?
and after that I set off in another trail of despair
am I pretty enough within?

the dictionary definition states
beauty is a combination of qualities
that pleases the sight

who said beauty was something so materialistic?
who put the seal on beauty being an image?

and how absurd is it that
a curve of the body
or a shape of lips
would be what determines
if you have a man
Attached to your hips?

and why is beauty restricted to sight?
because I've seen beauty in movement and walks
I've heard beauty in the way someone speaks
and I've witnessed beauty in someones words,
in someones actions, in someones works

beauty was seen before
when someone had talent
when someone had dedication
when someone had a heart

but now that has faded
like old ink on yellow brittle paper
and all that is left
of beauty is superficial

if beauty was a woman or a god
she would cry at night
sad she cant be seen in certain places anymore
and she would feel guilty for the fact that she's ruined
so many young girls lives because they cry to be
"beautiful" every single day

beauty would rage and wish she could be seen
in places she used to be
she would be angry at the fact
that she's closed up in a box,
a box of opinions and standards
of who she is

most of all
she would wish to whisper to those girls
that they are beautiful
and beg to have a chance to
open up blind humanity's eyes

Coming home from a fair,
cusped between your lap
a globe of darting eyes,
your hands rested atop
the thin film of a world
as you endlessly peer in.
Are you scrying over
your future career?

Here a tungsten bulbous
body, a chunk of flame,
swills itself in spins
and mindless dances,
as you think you could
be so careless like them
to live hazily in a framed
bubble of treasured youth,

fed by some divine fate
looking over you. Golden
scales make your skin,
binds you as if you were
a chocolate in a wrapper
for people to circus over–
every flicker being edible.
Or maybe you're like

those tinned peach slices,
posing in a cage for all  
as a marvel to feast with
until you end up rotting,
there in your tomb-space,
muttering an open mouth,
“help me” before they serve
you up on a silver-lined dish.

I assure you, you'll forget
these childish thoughts
of aspirations and dreams
sooner than you think:
no matter how much
you think they want you,
I'll bet they'll let yourself
drown in coming weeks.

While I’m terribly depressed in this dark silent room.
Somehow this aggression turns into an even deeper depression.
Now I have so many emotions that I cannot explain ….why I suffer in all this hate and pain.
Because I know in the morning I will regain… the dark feelings I have ….and the strain..  
Numbers, figures flying across my head, because I don’t know who I’m supposed  to be……I really don’t wanna be this type of me….
They tell me to get over it… tomorrow will be a better day…. To be honest… I just wanna sit on the dock of the bay.. because my days feel like years and my years feel like eternity….
What am I supposed to do… sit here in my jealousy???
Jealous of those that wake up in the morning.. look in the mirror and love what they see
That has someone to hold..has someone to love…has someone to say your beautiful in every way…

  These days turned into hours….hours turned in to minutes
I woke up that day feeling refreshed. ….I was so blessed that I found the address of the doors of happiness
This was the end….
I can finally walk in to that place we call a world, leaving the extra baggage behind.
I am not designed to fit your checklist of what a “women” is supposed to look like…
KEEP YOUR UNKIND WORDS!!!I’ve found my peace of mind.. If you can’t look pass looks then…. You’re clearly blind!
-Raeven Leigh Winter-