Sunday, November 22, 2015


Selfie after selfie she posts
In her Instagram with the weird username
And people tell her she’s pretty
They like her pictures
And compliment
Although some call her a slut
Even though she isn’t
And she tells you why she doesn’t pair
Those pants with that top
Because it makes her look
Like she’s out to get some
Even though she isn’t
Not that night
Not ever
And she covers her face in makeup
For the cheeks, lips, for her eyes
And they call her beautiful
And her outfits, they are cool
But nobody sees beneath those filters
The empty room she sits in
Frowning except when
Taking a picture
Wearing clothes she will never wear again
Because she has no where to go
Can only be in her bedroom
And they like her because she doesn’t wear bands in her hair
But a scarf around her neck
And bands on her writes
And they don’t see what she’s hiding
All those marks
And the loneliness
The prison that’s her room
Because she looks like she’s on her way to a party
But she never gets invited
And even if she does
She can’t make it out the door
And so she stays indoors
And those comments they leave
On her photographs,
They make her smile
They let her know
She’s beautiful
And that makes her smile
But no one sees that smile
Her real smile
Because it’s invisible
Like she is