maybe later

insecurities

i dislike the way i look,

my tiny hands not even being able to grab anything with such ease.

i wish i could look like the characters i imagine in my head from a book.

with their hair blowing oh-so perfectly in the autumn breeze.

i wish i was as pretty as the people i look up to,

their curvy body and glowing skin.

but they have no idea i exist, i'm merely someone they just look through.

my face is really something i should begin with.

please,

"pretty" isn't something i want to be known for,

it's just a word, a common compliment.

there's so many other words that are just worth more.

being called "cute" or "hot" isn't something i'd exactly adore.

although it is nice, but that's when it gets addicting.

posting selfies on any social media to please yourself from the compliments from others.

are you low on self-esteem?

practically asking for people to point out what they like about your face or body.

are you just boosting your ego?

(despite how big or small it is)

but why does their opinion matter,

you don't need to reach society's standards.

but there's so much more than the skin on your body,

or the makeup on your face.

build yourself, find a new hobby.

look at the way you handle your own anger with such grace

because our personalities have so much more content than what is on our skin.

if anything grows old, it's your body.

and i promise you that no matter how many times you go to the gym,

no matter how many times you've dyed your hair,

how much makeup you put on,

or even how long you've lasted on your diet,

your body will become wrinkly, and old.

our bodies are only so temporary, but we think we have them forever.

because we always pay attention to what we have now

(not that it's a terribly bad thing to think about).

but by the time we're seventy-five years old,

what will we hold on to if the only thing we care about now is our appearance.

what a waste.

-IP