In my selfies,

I turn my "bad side" away from the camera

I strike a pose that lets my hair fall

Like a curtain before a show

Over my lazy eye,

The one that won't just behave and pretend to be normal

I cover my splotchy cheeks with makeup

Or hide them with tricks of the light

And can't help looking at it after,

Thinking about all the ways it could be better,

Thinking that all my sides are my "bad side".

Layering filters dulls the red in my cheeks

And the red around my eyes from crying

(Crying about my "bad side")

And they're supposed to make the picture look perfect

Perfect angle, perfect pose, perfect pouting lips like a kiss

But when you take off the filter

Strip it away without expectations for perfection

And it's just me

Maybe laughing with my friends

Or curled up with a book

But it's real and not a statue

A moment in time, not some attempt at art

And I don't have to have a bad side.