Image Washed

A poem about realizing that by changing your image only to please those around you, you're loosing part of yourself.

Image Washed

My eyes are fogged.

My face is plaster.

Piece by piece, I'm put together. 

My lips are swollen.

My lashes; heavy.

A perfect print, declared unready.

My skin is painted.

My brows are stripped.

This is beauty- the key to bliss?

My mind is screaming.

My body quakes.

I am wiser- it's time I wake.

My facade is washed.

My eyeliner drips.

A mirror shows who I dismissed.

My voice is my own.

My image; a blessing

Time to be, and stop pretending.

Author's Note

I've mentioned this before, but I've never really learned how to write poems in school or how punctuation works with them and everything. So I pretty much winged this one but it does come from the bottom of my heart and I think it's something that many teens can relate to.