She Is Not Me

I'm not like her

I can't make my eyes look a different shape

With thick black eyeliner

My hair isn't of natural hair color

Where you can brush it so smoothly through your fingers

My confidence isn't uploaded on social media

in skimp bikinis and early morning gym workouts

I'm a person of internal value

You'll find me at the museum

Not the mall

My library is more in depth than her highschool's summer reading list

My mood is contingent on the hope I took my daily medication

And my body is swollen whole by my crippling anxiety

that I'll be loved only half heartedly like I've been 

And my mind does jumping jacks and slumps in a span of a minute

I change personalities like underwear 

And that's probably the only provocative thing about me 

My red thong hanging off my bed's ledge 

As you slip your head between my legs in replacement

Loving me ever so delicately 

And my outcry ever so loudly 

While my head overlooks all the million people that could've taken my place

But, I'm here. 

I'm here.

And I'm beautiful. 

Inside and Out.