That is what we all want to see when we look in the mirror.            

Perfection is nothing short of a dream.                                              

We want so much to reach it to have it nearer                                   

But like I said it’s a lie.                                                                      

That’s why we have the photo shop beam,                                        

The light to our dark tunnel of reality,                                               

That saves us from accepting our true dye.                                       

I was forced to accept my social fatality.                                          

Being different allows invisible targets to appear.                            

I tried my best to be nice and kind but away kids my age would fly.          

Always shunning me because I was big with a shy heart,                 

They made me feel nothing by self conscious as they sneer              

By now you’d think I would’ve acted this part                                

But from time to time it still stings                                                    

So, I hide behind pictures, conducted in precise ways, to appear sheer

Behind makeup and clothes, earrings and perfect toes                     

I just want acceptance, friends in rings                                             

But being alone for so long really shows.                                          

I accept less praises in my life.                                                           

I accept less people in my heart, scared of unknown things.             

I’m scared of many things but I am free.                                          

Even though I fear and shy away from everyone’s knife,                 

I know who’s true, who’s with me and against me.                          

And it’s okay because I accept anyone, flaws and all even if they judge me.

That is who I am behind it all

And that is who I will always be.