This is Me

Thu, 03/05/2015 - 14:33 -- Meanda

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No one has seen the real side of me. Remove my "rise, valencia, sierra, or inkwell" filter and you shall see

Wipe off my divine wine lipstick and there you'll see, a shade of purple underneath. No I wasn't punched, nor did I lose a fight. It's the real side of me, born with a vascular malformation disease

Get a wash cloth, and remove my eye make up. Then you'll see the dark circles underneath from not enough sleep

You'll see that one of my eyes is smaller than the other. Take out my green contacts and back to brown eyes I go. Put on my glasses. There I am, bugged eyed, four eyed girl. But then again, this is me

My nose is as big as can be, along with my chipmunk cheeks. I let down my hair, remove my extensions and back to shoulder length it goes

As I change into comfy clothes, I look at myself in the mirror and count the many flaws I see

I lay myself down and take off my strong filter. Finally the real me comes back to life. There is no more hiding and just pretending to be

This is me, my tears start to flow and depression kicks in. My thoughts wander throughout my life. I begin to think, what led me here to be

Without my filters I am me. By me, I mean a lonely girl hiding behind someone who isn't as strong as she seems

By the time I fall asleep, it's already three. I wake up the next day and just hit repeat.

I begin to to cover my dark eye circles to hide my lack of sleep.

But truthfully, I begin to hide the real me, so no one can see the weak side of me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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