Emily (frprtgirl) wrote in __amatory_verse,


I'm a little unsure about this poem, but here's what I have...

Last night I stared down
At images of Cover Girl
Laying on my bedroom floor.
The wide eyes staring back at me
Spoke of fantasies fabricated
For lost personas
And empty minds.

With growing agony,
I listened to their message:
It was a tale of lies
That filled holes with foundation
And cracks with mascara
And painted the ideal image to completion;
It was polished to perfection.

That night,
My rough hands and narrow eyes
Tore their images apart-
Bright shine and even lines
Settled around my feet like heavy snow,
And I replaced their unrelenting deception
With my beautifully imperfect
Simple honesty.


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