"butterface" poems - Hello Poetry

This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but Delicate bones and pearly whites My essence captured through awkward captions and My worth measured by likes and heart bytes A photograph carefully composed Of a girl with her true thoughts [boxed up tight] This is to the boys who see me as nothing but Geometric shapes Circles and curves and parabolas **** and *** and legs and waist And an irrelevant concave where my brain should be My “radical ideas” make me a butterface This is to the academy, that sees me as nothing but 3.97 and a good SAT score A scholar of great potential That will donate millions or more As an honored alumni Of the greatest institution in the world This is to society, that sees me as nothing but A golden gal who always colored inside the lines Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes, no fire in my soles “She’s never insubordinate, ‘cause she’s never been inclined” Determined but docile Go ahead and assume I’m not the rebellious kind This is to myself, because I see that My mind is a kaleidoscope of technicolor dreams Ideas colliding like specks in sunbeams And I’ll call myself a feminist or riot grrl if I **** well please You are not my dictator or an office label machine It’s 2015; I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be.

0

Mar 28, 2015

Mar 28, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC

mrs-kite

It's No Fall Out Boy Title, But It'll Do

This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but Delicate bones and pearly whites My essence captured through awkward captions and My worth measured by likes and heart bytes A photograph carefully composed Of a girl with her true thoughts [boxed up tight] This is to the boys who see me as nothing but Geometric shapes Circles and curves and parabolas **** and *** and legs and waist And an irrelevant concave where my brain should be My “radical ideas” make me a butterface This is to the academy, that sees me as nothing but 3.97 and a good SAT score A scholar of great potential That will donate millions or more As an honored alumni Of the greatest institution in the world This is to society, that sees me as nothing but A golden gal who always colored inside the lines Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes, no fire in my soles “She’s never insubordinate, ‘cause she’s never been inclined” Determined but docile Go ahead and assume I’m not the rebellious kind This is to myself, because I see that My mind is a kaleidoscope of technicolor dreams Ideas colliding like specks in sunbeams And I’ll call myself a feminist or riot grrl if I **** well please You are not my dictator or an office label machine It’s 2015; I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be.

30

I don't know how to tell you friend don't feel like sayin' much at all these days my words seem make-pretend perhaps my pride before the fall It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but now I know just how it feels wet sand is cold like soft concrete and I can sit and dig my heels 'til burying my loathsome feet and standing now without a keel high tide they say, is coming in I dig to break the salty seal to free my legs to walk again.... unsocial social butterfly finds a sunlit place to rest the lightest breeze will pass her by and stir again the vacant nest she's seen a fairly ugly past hung in, the pillar of her peers and now the warming rays alas will dry her bitter butter tears and staring now, just down below the spider's web has never freed but pitched a battle, awesome show which spoke again to butter's need The words we tend to weave within dark thoughts can surely build a wall to block the sun and thickly spin our pride, so fierce before the fall... and caterpiller's stiff cocoon gave place for wings like silk adorned with patterns, colored matching moons in darkened place her future formed I speak in words, which make it real the stuff, it all comes pouring out a substance formed and packed with zeal for all the things I talk about but some not nice have taken flight and reaching, caught within your net like thunder in your morning; light I spoke too soon and now regret sometimes I tend to overthink and miss the point, that awesome prize I sleep, awaken, eat and drink yet somehow came to realize That YOU, my very precious one sweet salty butterfly of grace a brand new life has finally come and gee, I LOVE that butter face! It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but more unusual to write a poems which ends without a word the butterfly in silent flight the sweetest thing I've ever heard.... :)

0

Aug 24, 2014

Aug 24, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC

igclair

butterface

I don't know how to tell you friend don't feel like sayin' much at all these days my words seem make-pretend perhaps my pride before the fall It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but now I know just how it feels wet sand is cold like soft concrete and I can sit and dig my heels 'til burying my loathsome feet and standing now without a keel high tide they say, is coming in I dig to break the salty seal to free my legs to walk again.... unsocial social butterfly finds a sunlit place to rest the lightest breeze will pass her by and stir again the vacant nest she's seen a fairly ugly past hung in, the pillar of her peers and now the warming rays alas will dry her bitter butter tears and staring now, just down below the spider's web has never freed but pitched a battle, awesome show which spoke again to butter's need The words we tend to weave within dark thoughts can surely build a wall to block the sun and thickly spin our pride, so fierce before the fall... and caterpiller's stiff cocoon gave place for wings like silk adorned with patterns, colored matching moons in darkened place her future formed I speak in words, which make it real the stuff, it all comes pouring out a substance formed and packed with zeal for all the things I talk about but some not nice have taken flight and reaching, caught within your net like thunder in your morning; light I spoke too soon and now regret sometimes I tend to overthink and miss the point, that awesome prize I sleep, awaken, eat and drink yet somehow came to realize That YOU, my very precious one sweet salty butterfly of grace a brand new life has finally come and gee, I LOVE that butter face! It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but more unusual to write a poems which ends without a word the butterfly in silent flight the sweetest thing I've ever heard.... :)

60

You're fat. Look at those rolls. You can't fit through the door. How many chins are those? You remind me of a whale. I am beautiful Butterface. You make me want to **** Don't you wash your face? Acne must live on your body. It looks like there's craters are your face. I am beautiful You're too fat to be at the gym. Salad? Don't kid yourself. You need to lose weight. Your thighs are huge. You look pregnant. I am beautiful You can't do this I am beautiful You're so ugly. I am beautiful Stop believing in yourself I. Am. Beautiful.

0

Mar 10, 2015

Mar 10, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC

rochelledear

VS.

You're fat. Look at those rolls. You can't fit through the door. How many chins are those? You remind me of a whale. I am beautiful Butterface. You make me want to **** Don't you wash your face? Acne must live on your body. It looks like there's craters are your face. I am beautiful You're too fat to be at the gym. Salad? Don't kid yourself. You need to lose weight. Your thighs are huge. You look pregnant. I am beautiful You can't do this I am beautiful You're so ugly. I am beautiful Stop believing in yourself I. Am. Beautiful.

24