Every night
After every day
I remove my confidence
With a few swipes of a wipe,
Taking away the image i portray to others
Of myself
And how i feel.
I once again become the lost little girl
Who doubts everything about herself,
Second guesses herself,
Who is trapped in her mind.
Her confidence that was there during the day
Gone
Her perfect skin with great cheekbones
Gone
Her feeling of veing somewhat wanted in this cruel world
Gone.
And there
In front of the mirror
Stands her,
The truest form of me
The one barely anyone knows
Which i dont think anyone does
The one i save for myself
My poems
My mind
Me.
The one thing the cruel world cant take from me
Because i dont show her.
And every morning
I cover her up
With some perfectly blended chemicals
Giving me a rationing of confidence
To last until the evening
When i perform the same ritual of removing said confidence with a swipe of a wipe and getting a glimpse of her, me in the mirror, the one who hides and waits patiently for morning to become confident again and repeat the same routine over and over and over
Until one day hopefully comes when she can throw away the artificial beauty and see the natural version that lies within her.
