Band-aids and Filters

She ripped off the photo filter like it was a band-aid

My skin was red

And it was uncomfortable

I lay there like a child in the fetal position

Then it all came back

With the weight of the filter gone

My hair was free enough to get dirty throughout the day

Free to be oily and tangled

My nails were free to be chipped

And my legs unshaved

My voice grew loud and strong like a rambunctious child in play

Never did I stop to think twice about getting wet

Time did not matter anymore

Work was not work

And I was not afraid to get a scrap my knee

But sometimes scraped knees need band-aids

And sometimes I need a filter

Till I feel strong again and my complexes stop hurting

Although, when scabs start to form and the filter comes off I promise what you see will always be me