Raw

Sun, 03/01/2015 - 14:18 -- kgouty

Authentic me is one that everyone sees,

no makeup or filters, just scars and crooked teeth.

The scars create a mask that is beautifully hurtful to the eye,

its raw and vulnerable to those that reply.

 

Their words are hurtful and piercing to the heart,

the beautiful raw mask is slowly torn apart.

The mascara and eye shadow slowly appear on my face,

thanks to a guys comment on my pic that cant even be traced.

 

The mirror now shows a person thats not me,

the beautiful raw mask is crying to be seen.

I throw off the makeup because who cares what people say,

my beautiful raw mask is here to stay.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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