How does it feel to be trapped behind a screen?
In a world without dimension where perception is key.
We iron our hair and puff out our lips in hopes that they don’t see
Because heaven forbid we be ourselves.
No. we must be anyone but ourselves.
We must be perfect
We must be tone.
We must show the pretty
And discard what we own.
to be honest i gave up.
because putting frosting
on a muffin wont change what's up.
I wouldnt be part of a charade where the flawless dominate
They hide behind masks and makeup and fake
What they are.
Just to save face.
Now tell me.
Look me in the eye and tell me.
What is to gain?
Who cares about the selfies or the filters or snaps?
If you care you don’t matter to me. Now perhaps
My hair isn’t perfect, its all wavy and red.
And so what if I forget to wash my face before bed.
My skin color looks like neopalatin ice-cream.
I am rosy cheeked, pale and have so many freckles it’s obscene
But I am healthy, I am clean.
I don’t care that my body is in-between.
I life weights and run half marathons on the weekends
And I eat like a pig when I’m not around friends.
My size thirteen butt could life a mountain,
And I don’t gussy up before I go out in
The world, because I am not afraid,
If you mean anything to me you wouldn’t care.
If it really matters, I know it doesn’t, but if it did,
Then we’d all become shells, and that’s not how God wanted his kids.
Our inner beauty and passions are what define us.
How we spend our time and where our work finds us.
The good we do, the friends we make, the things we leave when we die.
That is who I am.
That is the center of my life.
Please don’t remember me by the photo shopped pictures,
Think about my poems, remember me by my good works.
The things I say to inspire the world
Not the way I look when the light is low.
I spend more time at church than I do on my hair,
Because the poor and needy look at me, and they don’t care
As long as my heart is open and I am ready to serve,
They won’t judge based on how many likes my selfies deserve.
Snapchat and twitter got nothing on my faith
My self-worth is not measured by the size of my waist.
And without the filter, and the polish and the hype
You’ll find that my heart is better than my face on Skype.