Amour Propre

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Feeling elegant.

Plaster on makeup.

Covering up the repulsiveness.

Smiling while two-timing myself.

Heading to the university.

Scanning every single girl.

Faking a smirk.

Believing a lie.

Attentive to other people talking.

Despising my favorite shirt.

Drowning in other peoples opinions.

Doubting every last part of me.

Going through most of the day.

Disgusted with the way my hair and face looks.

Makeup cannot hide my emotions.

Questioning every meager thing.

Frowning at myself in the mirror.

Feeling as hideous as the world-as society;

for making me believe I’m not good enough.

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You probably shouldn’t look at my Nails.

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My nails look like tiny little
graveyards.

Raised bits.

Flat bits.
Chewed bits that would
represent the headstones.

The blood that sometimes comes

Is the lives buried.

The color is the flowers
left behind.

Every bite represents
My anxiety.

My sanity.

My health.

Bury my fears

Never look back.

Don’t let the world see.
But don’t be afraid of
being judged.

I know several things

that most likely died today.