Liar You're not Beautiful

this is my brain on Sunday nights

I like to throw my phone behind me

And pretend I’ve got a million messages

From lovers dying to know my thoughts and stories

When in reality I know that just because I can’t feel it

Or hear it

Doesn’t mean anyone has tried to make

                First contact

 

I like to write out letters to ghosts

That I know will never be sent or replied to

But at least I can pretend for a little while that someone wants to know

The never ending tracks they’ve walked across my heart

But I know these are feelings that will remain untold

And unspoken

Because I’m sort of a coward when we’re speaking

                The truth

 

I like to bury my skin in chemicals

Trying so hard to save it so that some sad sorry

Sap

Whose heart I’ve yet to get ahold of will notice me

Thinking god damn she could maybe

Just maybe

                Be gorgeous

           (With some work)

 

I like to write empty poetry and pretend that the lovers in my

Strophes are just as

Star shouldered and cyber eyed

As my words and lines make them out to

                Be

 

Because in reality my skyline eyes don’t beg for adventures

And these bony piano fingers are the only thing boney about this

Sun baked body of mine

And I’m too busy crafting with my tongue to play

                Alien

These days

 

And maybe I should learn how to fly to the space station

Because I’m no good at waiting around for

This never coming

                First contact

 

And the truth is I’m sick of waiting around in the shadows and these days

Of cowardliness are coming quickly swiftly to a

                Close

 

And I may never be anything more than the ghost girl of this big Town small City

I wasn’t Born but raised in

But at least I’ll pass as pretty to some boy in a smoke filled room

That I may or may not fall in love with

And I could see myself in that moment with my tongue entwined with his

Like an alien invasion, marrying him some day

 

Because I know I’m not

But he likes to call me

                Beautiful

With or without this chemical smirk 

Author's Note

Everything here is intentional.

Reviews

[17thWhitePrince]

This piece I like a whole lot because even though you pretend there are a million messages waiting for you to read when they may be none and even though you go through the same ritual to get ready for some poor fellow to take some sort of liking to you, you still believe that some day you will be loved. Even though you may not be as in Love with him as he will be in you you still seem to be willing to go through with it all. I even feel some pity for the poor fellow that calls you beautiful even though you say you are most definately not. It seems as if you're sick of this old worn beaten path that has been treaded many many times over. Maybe traveling down this eventual road isn't for you. Break free !!! Leave this forgotten town and take a new path in life !!! That's what I would suggest =D Don't give up just yet !!!

[Invisible]

it is hard knowing oneself is beautiful when one has to do things like wear makeup and dress up just to get someone's attention. men could simply look at a picture of you and say "hey there beautiful", but they're only seeing what you're showing, they're not paying attention to all the things in between, how you smile, what you feel, who you truly are. the devil is in the details they say, but perhaps we'll all one day find someone who will be willing and able to see who we are, where the blind lead the blind to true perception of indefinite beauty of the body, heart, mind and soul.