I Wish I Was Pretty
I wish I was like all the other girls-
with perfect curves,
beachy curls that shout freedom.
Their lips grow full,
plumped in summer's heat,
like ripened fruit.
And I wish-
I was like them,
walking easy in skinny jeans
that hug thin thighs and hips
carved by gods and goddesses.
They bat their eyes,
draw boys like moths to flame,
never tasting the sting
of being unseen.
Everything comes easy-
beauty's spell needs no casting.
They don't do a thing
but exist, embolden the air.
Radiant suns,
thousands of sparkling lights,
goddesses pouring fire and fun,
burning bright.
And I-
wonder if that's why
nobody sees me.
I'm not
what they call beautiful.
I stand invisible-
a wish on dry lips,
waiting like dawn to be pretty.
༄
- 𝓦𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓑𝓮 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂
༄
Author's Note:
Hey there! Thanks for stopping by.
This poem reflects the quiet struggles with self-image and the feeling of invisibility many of us experience when comparing ourselves to others. It's about longing-not just to be seen, but to feel worthy of that attention and love. It stands as a personal tribute to everyone who has ever felt unseen, unheard, or less than enough.
Yet beneath that longing lies a seed of resilience, reminding us that our worth is never only skin-deep. Sometimes, beauty waits quietly to be claimed-within us and by us.
YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." these are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. Warning: some may be triggering, dis...
