I stand in the bathroom looking in the mirror.
A brush of mascara, a sweep of eyeliner, a touch of blush
all over my skin covered in pale powder.
I take a picture. Flash! Flash!
I look at girl on my screen. She is beautiful and anyone would think so.
A complete model, the perfect package.
But I am not that pretty girl. Wearing that dress from Hollister, makeup from Covergirl, and
shoes from Steve Madden.
I see the wrinkles, the bags and dark circles.
I see the acne and pockmarks.
I am not perfect. I have more weight than that picture.
I am not that complete package, that model.
I see sweats, loose tshirt, messy hair.
I see the sleep loss and acne.
I am glad to see mysef with no filter.
For with a filter I am not myself.