The cruel laughs echo through your ears
they twist their way through our heads
they worm their way into our hearts,
until we fall into our roles, playacting
broken hearts and shattered glass
the facade becoming one with our essence.
The lines on the computer screen
burn tattoos on the backs of our eyelids
reflecting light that was supposed to shine through the darkness
to help us connect, but the solitude
collapses our lungs and squeezes our hearts
with relentless hands
and breathless oxygen.
We claw at our deformed blemishes
constrict our bodies
smear paint on our faces
even allowing the glint of a knife
to cut into our skin to alter
everything the world hates about us.
Oh beautiful ones.
Cover your mirrors
shatter the image of perfection as you know it
see yourself as a person, not a number
as a soul, not a blemish
as a human being, not a mistake
waiting to be erased from the test
that we all fail if we look too closely.