The other side

The lens of a camera is a bridge built between two,

The outside world and the real you.

I often deceive the world with my filters,

Trying to hide all my imperfect feature;

But let me flip the lens,

So they can see,

Who the real me is.

I am quite big,

With three rolls on each side.

My legs have cellulites,

With visible spider veins.

I have pimples on my face,

Which spread like the constellations of stars in space.

My laugh is quite loud,

But is contagious like a disease.

I have small and uneven fingers

Yet, they have the power to add flavor to words I speak.

I’m nowhere near perfect, and this I know.

All these filters hide my life, which the world should never know,

But despite the amount of filters I use,

It’ll never work.