Stares in the mirror. It used to hurt.
After so much time, is the pain gone?
The hatred gone to exile, the fallen tears washed down the drain.
Shattered glass and melted mascara, weight loss programs and diets. Staring in the mirror until your eyes were red and puffy. Why do your insecurities look beautiful on celebrities?
So much work, finally paid off. Singing at yourself in the reflective surface, hairbrush in hand. "End of Beginning" lip syncing
Found your style, found your love.
Red lipstick, food you love. Staring in the mirror because you're hot as fuck! You look as hot as any model.
Have you figured out how to love yourself?
YOU ARE READING
AGAPE, Poetry
Poetry" 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 form of love . . . in which...i tell stories of love for i can not experience the love myself. or , in which i write poetry and prose.
