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Showing stories tagged with #self-perception Clear filter
Heart so cold You think I'm pretty without any make- up on. Your the first to complement Even when it all goes wrong. You tell me I'm pretty and thin. You say I have beautiful white skin.
#household She saw her face on the window pane, faded, ghostly. If she focused hard enough, she could see the outside world, frosted, dark grey and raining smoke orange leaves.
#youngwritershousehold. Reflections by the water. Contorted mirror shows. Dappled shining faces. Watch it as it goes. As good as a looking glass. Rippling away flaws. Trout glowing through us.
A world of a fake mess, No real in it at all. All the lies we see in photos, The cutting, glossing, the editing, just a lie, a slap in the face.
U was feeling retro & easy & decided to dig out my old favorite tee for the day. With less makeup & just a blue jeans; here I was in the train to town.
They think I'm sweet and oh so cute. God it makes me want to puke. I'm a naughty little minx. I'm all about nudge nudge...wink wink. It's all about the fun for me. Be whoever I want to be.
Her heels click as they touch the floor, her dress sways along her un-perfect figure, she reaches the steps, time to put on her mask, her mask covers her eyes, her mask and her makeup together make...
Outside lives a girl with a smile that will brighten up the room, yet inside hides a girl with a frown full of despair.
#household Dear mirror, You see the long dark hair but not what makes me care. The small oval face but not my personal tastes. Eyes of dark green but not what they've seen.
My mirror is broken, It tells of great lies. My tummy is flatter, I'm sure I had thighs. I know that I'm fitter, I've gained 20 pounds. My hair was once neat, Now looks like a hounds.
Verna is no witch lady, but Erutàron's fridge filled with Red Delicious, she sure is crafty, Athena tells Ondine don't be moody, still Ondine pictures a ladies room, one lavatory banging and jolty.
I'm sick of reflections. I've smashed all the mirrors. But the images keep projecting. Someone I don't recognise. Even the reflection from my phone. Seems to tease my mind.
I used to love my skin. I felt good in my own skin. Itches everywhere and all the time. Scratching, getting sore all the time. Collecting dirt, accumulating dust. Dry skin, always moisten it I must.
Old. No I'll never be old Young forever A piece of gold Never a Golden oldie Age gracefully With time. Now that would Just be crossing The granny line I like a challenge Maybe a potion.
Freeze face What a waste You have a scary Mary Look in your eye Does your face even move when you cry.
Walk past, you never hear me. Walk past, you do not see me. Your eyes glance through me, Your eyes, ebony and violet. The ghost, the draft of a story. The ghost, a see though figure.
Mirror, Why must you lie. You call me pretty. You call me skinny. You say I am perfect. Someone takes a picture of me and I am ugly. I step on the scale and I am fat. I am not perfect.
If surrounded by people means that I'm popular then you can call me popular. If coming up to strangers and speaking to them makes me social then you can call me social.
Being of blond hair colour and of male gender can be a difficult combination sometimes.
On a daily basis I'm called negative, reason being is that I find it hard to display my emotions if they even surface at all.
A Girl She goes on the same train every day but today it was cold. The thick puffa jacket made her look even more like a ball than usual.
I know she's going to ask me how good she looks, I tell her beautiful and ask how long it took for you to put it on, it was early in the morning and she resembled a model out of a MacBook,...
Behind closed doors was a man, He hides most flaws if he can. When people look on, They see nothing's wrong, But inside his emotions are gone.
Fashion is so close in revealing a person's inner feelings and everybody seems to hate to lay claim to vanity so people tend to push it away. It's really too close to the quick of the soul.