Crumpling reality

The Rape us by taking the things we value

Altering our mind and all we thought was real

What exactly must I do to be as beautiful as you?

My face in my palm and fingertips on hips that I wish could become mine

As I flip through thin pages that crumple in my hand it becomes clear that we are not so different

In the hands of our maker we were created all the same

Beauty can come in so many different ways

Its probably their fault that we even picture ourselves this way

I’ve been on this earth for quite some time

And I’ve learned to love your differences, as well as mine

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