My dark locks are finally blonde.
My pale skin is clear, but only with foundation on.
My body is finally thin and frail.
Only after a few skipped meals…
Drawn on eyebrows, and overdrawn red lips.
I honestly hate this shade of lipstick.
My once beautiful brown eyes are dull and dead.
All thanks to bitter words inside my head.
Who cares if I am sad?
I am beautiful!
I am finally perfect in this broken society.
Finally accepted; one of the pretty girls.
I am fake, a prisoner…
I am you.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetic Journey
RandomThis book is basically my writings that go back to I think 2014. This is kind of a way for me to see how much my writing style has changed and hopefully give some people a little bit of inspiration! :-)
