Everything My Lips Never Said { fast updates}

poem: perspective

 Since being apart of life,

Is half of your perspective.

I imagine life,

Being rather selective.

You are the creator,

You can write your own story.

Your appearance is rather greater,

Your chapter starts with glory.

You can wipe away,

The fake smiles and the laughter.

The humiliations,

And everything thereafter.

You could rename yourself,

So my name would be noname.

Just like the girl,

Who added fuel to the flame.

There is no more portraying,

The image of being perfect.

You could rewrite your mistakes,

And have already been checked.

If i was your masterpiece,

How would you paint me.

Would you add to my appearance to increase,

Or would you just let me be.

Would you use vibrant colors,

For the strokes of my hair.

The color to define my skin,

To show what is within.

The dimensions of my face,

Using harsh lines.

Or it is a trace,

To show what a shine.

Would you take your time,

To show the value of what's mines.

Or would it be a crime,

To show what has died.

Would you paint,

The cuts up my arms.

would you repaint,

To show the catastrophic harms.

Would you hide me away,

So my colors would fade.

For me to have no say,

Even when i was betrayed.

Would you smudge the paint,

To show the story behind my scars.

For the ones who can't,

To explore beyond the shores.

How long would you spend,

To finish your painting.

Days, weeks, months, or years.

Maybe while its raining,

See this world in my perspective,

You are no longer the artist.

Your life is not selective ,

You are never missed.

If you were me,

How would you see.

Would you hold me by my wings,

Or would you set me free.