from the womb to walking
I’ve felt the same
self-hatred stew
brewing in my brain
the longer I look
the more I despise
what stares back at me
a mirror reflects lies
wipe away the makeup
bring forth my fears
strip off my layers
I’m left in tears
the style I choose
hides the feelings I didn’t
the brighter I look
the more there is within it
as my self-confidence
is more rare than a bloody steak,
I hide behind what people perceive
while the stew keeps brewing, with each breath I take
