There is no photo that can capture my essence,

fore that screen that lie before you is nothing but a cover.

If only people could see the effects of my presence,

then maybe they would understand why I feel the need,

to escape reality and create a false impression.

When looking in the mirror sits the imperfection,

but this will not define me,

no I won’t let it be!

Here I stand with a voice that can empower,

yet I let my sound be muted by a camera’s shutter;

so afraid of the thoughts that I may utter.

Editing me is like discouraging myself,

the blurring of my lines and erasing of my pores,

but really I’m shadowing the stories that sit on a shelf.

The lines of impurity preview a tale of past smiles.

Only if I would understand that I am seeking a disguise.

I am simply tucking myself in confidential files.

But why don’t I just release the true me,

and conquer the weight that corrodes the inside.

Instead of going through all the fuss,

of tweaking a screen that will only display a false identity,

when really I know that it will never be.

With time, I’ll see the easy ride,

defeat my mental flaws and accept,

the helpless two letter word inside,

ME.