Click, click,
There goes the camera.
Then… A blinding flash of light
How does it look?
Did it capture my best side?
Does the lighting make my skin glow?
These are the questions she asks….
Every single time the camera flashes.
Hundreds of times,
Every day…
A routine it has become…
Her holy grail,
Her breath of air,
She craves the likes,
She needs them… addicted to them,
She has subjected herself to judgment by the world,
A cruel and heartless world.
She has nigh impossible standards set by the world that she has to keep.
She must look a certain way
That’s the only way, she says,
To get all them likes.
Constantly glued on her phone
Comparing herself to others
And always finding points in herself to improve.
She needs that approval
Form people she will never meet,
From people to whom she is just another pretty photo,
From people who don’t really care about her.
She will starve herself
She will re-make herself
Plastics,
Shopping sprees,
The high life,
Things she can hardly afford but must have.
All for that little thumbs up.
She destroys herself saying,
Beauty is pain… And I must be beautiful.
Till all that is left,
Is an exhausted spirit,
And a broken soul,
Housed in a pretty shell.
Slowly killing herself,
She continuous on, relentlessly,
Deaf and blind to all but the likes,
As she says…
Just one more for the gram.
Gihihi?
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