A Girl Named Perfection

Her skin is made of wrapping paper

So she can tear it off easily 

When it becomes too painful to be her

She sees her waist through a magnifing glass

Large stomache, small ass

She has begun to shrink 

At the same speed 

As her heart begins to sink

The more they call her beautiful 

The more she begins to hear pitiful

She fell in love with Disbelief 

Even though Honesty treats her  better

Even though the truth is her shelter

She has burried her confidence

Under the layers of her hair

But some days its like it isn't even there

Comments

Christine36912

I could read this poem a thousand times and still find something new in it.  I love the symbolism and careful glimpses of hidden pain.  It is utterly beautiful.

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