Okay, was listening to the song Mouth Wash by Kate Nash WAAAYy too much when I wrote this. :) Most of what I write is inspired by somebody and while the poem was the song based off a song, this poem is inspired by my friend Chris who pinches me and goes "pick" every time I pick at my flaws.
This, this is my face.
You say it's perfectly cute
and maybe it is but,
I pick,
"My face's too fat, my hair has gone flat
My eyes have started to crinkle and I worry about wrinkles
but I notice they still kinda twinkle, just like Santa."
And you say, "Pick."
This, this is my body.
You, you say you like it the way it is
and maybe you do but,
I pick,
"I worry about my belly and how my butt jiggles like jelly
and I worry that sometimes I'm smelly
and compare my shape to a chicken from the deli."
And you say, "Pick, Pick, Pick."
And this, this is my mind.
I let you in whenever you want
You feel like home when your inside
But you...
You look at me with reproachful eyes
And tell me all the things you try to hide.
"About how to love, if you can love,
if you deserve love, if you want to love"
And I just smile at you, with a heart with room for a million
And say, "Pick."
