Perception isn't Reality

You see me as strong and beautiful,

While when I gaze in the mirror I see weak and helpless.

You see me as a perfectionist,

While I see my-self as basic and un-orginial.

You see me as happy and confident,

when I'm really confused and lost.

I walk down the hallway felling as if I could walk straight through them,

and they still wouldn't notice me.

I coat my face every morning, feeling the comfort of not being the orginal me.

My eye lashes are coated with Avon mascara, my face covered by my safety shield

of foundation and blush.

My body covered with clothes of insecurity, my heart is torn and coated with bandages.

It is in my eyes, where you can see the doubts, and the fear of failure.

It is in my eyes, that are coated with the perception of my invisibility.

I am not original, I am far from perfect, but no matter what I am still me.

You may slam the door on me, but that doesnt mean I can't open it myself.

Your perception of me is idealistic, but in reality I am unique.