My mind is what some may call dark

despite my efforts to brighten the dull cluttered space that I have created inside my brain

it remains somber and dark,

Though there is something liberating about indulging in my own vanity

Smiling into a mirror and painting my own face in the colors of my thoughts...

my eyelids become deep purples and golds, and my skin becomes flawless

all in the paints of self-created beauty.

I enjoy becoming someone entirely different- escaping my reality

shaping my cheek bones and eye brows into sharp forms of modern beauty.

Looking at myself and whispering "beautiful" as I see what I've made myself become.

This brings me genuine happiness

This poem is about: 


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