There's a girl
Who is insecure
And shattered by
Shards of mirror
That reflect only
The parts of her
She hates the most.
She tries and tries
To conform, to fit
But between the angels
she is a ghost.
She cries and cries herself
To sleep and in spite
Of vanity and tells
Herself to change what she can
But she is tired,
So tired of the constant
Illumination of her
Faults and flaws and
Her anger surges at the
Injustice of the hand that has
Been dealt her
Trapped by our own appearances
This is the age we live in
This is the time that moulds us
Into superficial beings
Today it matters so much
Of how you are pecieved
So why
Am I
So fucking ugly.
YOU ARE READING
Stardust
PoetryIt's a well known fact we all descend from stardust. What's to stop us from going back? {because I'm in love with the sky}
