Monday, 26 April 2010
As I stare into this glass object.
I used to cringe.. check out this
ugly person stare outwardly then
in. Inside I am warm, loving and
kind.. but on the outside I have
this appearance of which I am
unsure of. Inside my head I feel,
I think , for I am a child.. I
am, for I have been born. I see
this object, of which should be
of desire? I feel no such thing.
I stare at myself trying to say
the magic words which fall out
of my mouth. Without much
enthusiasm I repeat five times
'I am beautiful' but I feel
nothing. Maybe I am doing it
wrong. So I try again with
meaning 'I am beautiful'x 5.
Is it meant to work like
Oil of Olay, with time will
it iron out the hate for
which I have held for the
past ?? years. Will it dry
my aged tears? I hope so.