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I know that I seem to be, in the gazes of all who see me,
As one full of love for myself, full of myself even,
That I refuse to see the others!
I seem content, bold, self satisfied and confident
I seem uncaring, cheerful and stable
I seem as a Goddess enjoying my reign over my dominion
I seem what I am not, in fact!
The truth of me is one so vulnerable, easily shaken,
Intimidated by the rest of the world, when vocal and
Loud they choose to be!
The truth of me is that I am a pile of broken glass
Having been stuck back together by the higher powers
For reasons known to themselves!
The truth of me is that I cry when I get the opportunity to,
Since adulting requires having a time slot for everything,
From being social to being professional!
The truth of me is that I hide my despair for life
Pretending that I am happy with what I have
When all I seek is the comfort of the eternal sleep!
The truth of me is that I suffer from my lies
Hiding my porous side
From the rest of the world, as, if revealed,
I just know, their gazes would instantly change
From being envious to being disgusted!
The truth of me is that I am human,
Hating my body, struggling with my weight,
Wanting to be heard, to be loved, to be listened to,
Wanting to laugh, to be, in the very end,
Like the rest!
But, knowing, at the same time,
That since life remains what it is,
And since our fates depend not upon us,
I have to dry my tears and accept that which has
Been bestowed to me; from my imperfections to my
Pray, the truth of me has been unveiled, as if
It were Dorian's portrait in the form of poetry,
Poetry, which absorbs everything else
And allows me, to show to the world,
That which would make them pleased with me!
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