Stripped Down Me

My filter protects my sight,

It covers the world for me.

I use it to show what I wish to be;

A more perfect, flawless version of me.

I strip away the smile:

That straight-toothed, polite smile

Never made me any friends.

So I put it away.

Instead I let myself smile easily.

I laugh at jokes I find funny,

Grin at those I like,

And enjoy being me.

I strip away the clothes:

Why am I wearing this?

I never liked plaid anyway,

So why am I sporting it?

I tug on my sweats and ratty t-shirt,

And lounge about on the couch.

No more starched pressed clothes,

I enjoy being me.

I strip away the jewelry:

Pieces I’ve spent more on that I do food,

I place back in their boxes.

I don’t like big gaudy jewels;

they only seem to weigh me down.

The costume pieces are gone,

Replaced with nothing so that

I can enjoy being free.

I strip away the makeup:

What am I trying to tell people anyway?

There is no way that

Anyone’s eyebrows look that perfect.

Scrubbing and scraping away years of abuse,

I hardly know my skin anymore.

But without this cosmetic prison,

I can enjoy being me.

I stand in front of the mirror,

Eyeing my stripped away self.

I’m no longer the small, quiet girl

Who dressed and spoke perfectly.

I find I stand straighter, taller,

More sure of my decisions.

I smile now.

Really, smile.

Not my former smile, but my unfiltered smile,

Which shows that I really do like your joke,

And I really do enjoy your company.

It really doesn’t matter how long it takes us to

Strip it all away.

If I’ve learned anything,

It’s that the best thing I can do,

Is enjoy being me,

The unfiltered,

Stripped down,

Me.