rosiewithnyxie22

Social Media
          
          Maybe our parents were right,
          Social media is the cause.
          You see stereotypical people and forget the reality,
          You see pretty bodies,
          Pretty dresses and pretty people,
          Titles that will never fit you.
          
          You blame yourself, your weight, not the cause.
          Maybe social media is the cause,
          But people are caught in its storm to realise how deadly it is.
          People like the thrill,
          They’ll never hear souls crying for help.
          And that's when it all crumbles down,
          Social media.
          
          But it’ll pick right back up,
          Trends after trends and more power after another.
          One storm goes, another comes.
          
          Likes, views, comments, engagement.
          They’ll film people dying just for clout.
          They won’t see the reality, though,
          It’s distorted by countless filters and body-shaping tools.
          
          You blame yourself,
          You hate the person you are.
          You forget that the little you would’ve been proud,,
          Of where and how far you’ve come.
          
          The people bully you.
          You’re too thin, too flat, too fat, too curvy.
          You need to be just right.
          You smile too much, you smile too little,
          C’mon! You barely have a love life.
          Ugh! You’re a sult.
          
          That’s the beauty of social media,
          Only perfection exists,
          Only perfect bodies,
          Only perfect victims 
          and only the perfect beauty.
          
          Your life is on the internet,
          You can’t erase it,
          Because social media is all about views,
          All about being perfect,
          All about drama and personal life.
          The people love to hear it.
          
          So,
           Go! Go! Go!
          Spill everything!
          Only engagement matters,
          Do not worry!
          People will pick you apart,
          But that's what makes you perfect.
          All in the name of social media.
          
          Maybe social media is the villain,
          We’re too blind to see,
          But how could we when blinds cover our eyes,
          And siren sings in our ears?
          
          It's never social media’s fault,
          Or maybe it is.
          It's great for entertainment and views, though.
          So maybe I’ll post this.
          Just for the likes.

SECRET ADMIRER
          
          There’s no word to describe my feelings. 
          It's so much and too little at the same time,
          Overwhelmingness fills my heart from the bottom to the top,
          Especially when I think about you.
          
          They say you only love the things the most when they’re gone,
          You love the people the most when they die,
          But I’ve always loved you as if you were dead.
          Not a feeling in the world can change that.
          
          I love you more day by day,
          It's scary to me,
          How did I fall so deep without feeling lost?
          How could I love someone as if they were my existence?
          The scariest question is,
          Can I get back up, or am I just in the endless void till eternity?
          
          I don’t think you notice how,
          How my lips hurt from smiling too much when I’m with you
          Or,
          How much I “accidentally” bump into you.
          
          “I love you,” I say, smiling once again. 
          You hum and nod as if that's some kind of an inside joke,
          I just say, “silly, I’ve loved you for a long time,”
          You shake your head and mutter a no, not even a second glance at me.
          
          “I’ve always loved you as if you were dead to me,” I say, quoting your favourite line,
          “You were always dead to me.” You leave.
          There’s nothing in the air except a broken heart of mine,
          And maybe a faint laugh of yours and a quiet smile of mine.
          
          It is an inside joke, though.
          
          Ouch.
          It hurt.
          It hurt like a sharp blade drawing blood from my arm,
          But I can’t compare it to that,
          The stinging in your heart and your hand is completely different.
           You can bandage your arm, but,
          How do you bandage a heart that has been broken inside and out?
          
          I laugh.
          It's a joke anyway.
          To you, not to me.
          You will never know that, though.
          I experienced love at first sight,
          And you will later on,
          Not to me, some other girl, and I’ll be happy for you,
          Sad to me, but never to you.

Hello roseee<3