"storing" poems - Hello Poetry

There's a difference between looking and seeing. You can look at me, but I wonder more what you see. Brown eyes, brown hair, barely more than five feet tall; my feet are small, as are my hands; my teeth are straight, thanks to braces; shoulders been broad since I swam, but my figure is much less athletic than it used to be. I could look at myself and point out a million flaws. My forehead is much too big for my liking, my cheeks are too red, my top lip is so skinny it barely exists, and, if you ask me, my waist line could afford to look a little more like my upper lip. My looks are far from perfect. Not saying I'm hideous, but I don't look in the mirror to find America's Next Top Model, or anything close, at least not until my face is perfectly painted, flaws concealed under a combination of moderately priced makeup and a rather crafty hand. When I look, physical imperfections and inadequacies stare back at me. My overly expressive light brown eyes give me an omnipotent glance, and they beg me to turn away, to close them, to put them to sleep so that I can see. When I see, it's like a whole new me. I'm a human being whose physical flaws are diminished by an overly giving, compassionate heart, a brain filled of logic & curiosity, a chest swollen full of endless giggles, a throat storing sarcastic words mixed in with empathetic phrases; down within me I see the woman who still at times looks and feels more like the girl whose heart has been broken too many times to count but still, despite her womanly pessimism, yearns optimistically to love again. Within me I see a woman with confidence and also insecurity, ambition and fear, tranquility and rage, hope and despair; I see dreams, wishes, prayers, meditation; I see a beautifully complex soul trapped in a world that begs it for simplicity and conformity. I guess when I look I only get a glimpse of the body that feels the need to be perfect, to work out a little more, to weigh a little less, to fix her hair the right way, and to dress in the right clothes. The self-conscious me who still fears being weird, who cares what others think, who worries if my parents are proud. But when I see, out comes the woman who says **** the status quo, I can't be put in a box, I'm beautiful the way I am, and nothing stands between me and achieving my dreams.* When I look, I don't see, but when I see, I see me. I feel the brim of my glasses graze my nose, and I know, even once I take 'em off, my vision is better than ever.

0

Jun 25, 2014

Jun 25, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC

megb42290

20/20 Vision

There's a difference between looking and seeing. You can look at me, but I wonder more what you see. Brown eyes, brown hair, barely more than five feet tall; my feet are small, as are my hands; my teeth are straight, thanks to braces; shoulders been broad since I swam, but my figure is much less athletic than it used to be. I could look at myself and point out a million flaws. My forehead is much too big for my liking, my cheeks are too red, my top lip is so skinny it barely exists, and, if you ask me, my waist line could afford to look a little more like my upper lip. My looks are far from perfect. Not saying I'm hideous, but I don't look in the mirror to find America's Next Top Model, or anything close, at least not until my face is perfectly painted, flaws concealed under a combination of moderately priced makeup and a rather crafty hand. When I look, physical imperfections and inadequacies stare back at me. My overly expressive light brown eyes give me an omnipotent glance, and they beg me to turn away, to close them, to put them to sleep so that I can see. When I see, it's like a whole new me. I'm a human being whose physical flaws are diminished by an overly giving, compassionate heart, a brain filled of logic & curiosity, a chest swollen full of endless giggles, a throat storing sarcastic words mixed in with empathetic phrases; down within me I see the woman who still at times looks and feels more like the girl whose heart has been broken too many times to count but still, despite her womanly pessimism, yearns optimistically to love again. Within me I see a woman with confidence and also insecurity, ambition and fear, tranquility and rage, hope and despair; I see dreams, wishes, prayers, meditation; I see a beautifully complex soul trapped in a world that begs it for simplicity and conformity. I guess when I look I only get a glimpse of the body that feels the need to be perfect, to work out a little more, to weigh a little less, to fix her hair the right way, and to dress in the right clothes. The self-conscious me who still fears being weird, who cares what others think, who worries if my parents are proud. But when I see, out comes the woman who says **** the status quo, I can't be put in a box, I'm beautiful the way I am, and nothing stands between me and achieving my dreams.* When I look, I don't see, but when I see, I see me. I feel the brim of my glasses graze my nose, and I know, even once I take 'em off, my vision is better than ever.