Rose Colored Lens

I tell my story

in 140 characters (or less),

trying to recreate my world

through a rose colored lens.

Raised on likes and retweets,

nourished by photoshop and fad diets,

brought up by censorship

that seeps deeper

with the underlying message:

“cover yourself or change.”

The magazine covers,

the movie screens seem to scream it-

they’ll send you running to the mirror

and instead of beauty you’ll only see error.

So we cover ourselves, dripped in doubt

and coated with the latest instagram filter.

I’ve been through a colander,

sifting away parts of me-

a nervous giggle here, my squinty eye there,

my squishy thighs, braces and contacts,

even the way that I speak and act.

But what’s the good in fitting the mold?

I’m not living my life in acrostics or haikus;

no villanelles or sonnets for me.

Let me be free.

I am a free verse poem,

set to a rhythm with an irregular beat.

I can’t dance and I sing off key,

spending too much time stuck in a daydream.

But I hope that will never stop me

and the others who live their lives filter free,

from being real,

being what they want to be.

I’m with the against the current swimmers,

the bigger than life dreamers,

the dance to their own beat drummers,

the next big challenge jumpers.

We’re all there, real and raw,

filters peeled away exposing

a whole world existing, persisting,

and raising our pens,

behind the guise of the rose colored lens.