Restless.
Looking at it, hoping for one more.
Countless.
Feeling on fire, desperate for 104.
Senseless.
Eyes itching, as if they were about to pour.
Endless.
The numerous times ones pride's on the floor.
Hopeless.
Ones image seems to be all that is cared for.
Defenseless.
Why is our image all that is seen?
Numbers are not as they appear to be.
Not consoling,
only controlling.
Addicted to the rising fame,
always anxious of not fitting the frame.
Constantly hoping for the pain to cease.
Fully knowing the cure is a decease.
We all are the same,
yet all we do is blame.
Can you not see?
Ones own love is the key.
One should not search online,
Baring ones soul equals the last nail to a shrine.
Why do we hate so much,
When all we want is a gentle touch.
Why do we pressure ourself,
constantly putting our body on a shelf.
The need to be loved so high,
we forget to see eye to eye.
The number of likes in total,
media is not always social.
©️ TrueTrizz
(AN - Especially dedicated to those who struggle under the constant pressure of social media and trying to keep up with the perfect image. Please don't change yourself, you are beautiful - body and soul - and the only love you REALLY need is self love. Don't neglect yourself.)
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White Lies • a decade's diary
PoetryAbout the girl I used to be, am currently and will be in the future. • » Look in the mirror and you'll see me clearer « • white lie noun plural noun: white lies a harmless or trivial lie, especially one told to avoid hurting someone's feelings.
