-- I used to hide behind glasses. Fake frames that obscured my face from people's sight, along with stringy hair that fell limply against my cheeks, brushing against the smudge of ink left from burying my face into pages and pages of work. Eyes lit with burning hatred, sorrow and tears, staining those pages with the very fuel of anger that drove me to change. So I set down my shield. Vulnerability spread throughout like a virus, pulsing through my veins with vibrant energy. My eyes bled when they started to notice my blue eyes, started to speak and tell me about the color I had that I never knew of. So I went home and stared. The mirror smudged with dirt showed me my blurry image, myself and my flaws except for my eyes. They lit up the way and showed me my reflection, stringy hair still limp and flawed that pressed against my skin in a way that made me burn with even more hate. So I donned a sword and cut off the offending material. I was strange, I was new, bright and punk and pulsing with life. Blue eyes Trimmed hair But it wasn't enough Clarity I needed proof. The mirror showed my flaws, my dirty cheeks, filth clinging against moist skin. I never stopped bleeding, and when I tried to scratch away the flaws I was left bleeding even more, drowning in a puddle of tears and blood until it spread into an ocean, where I laid and pondered. A new day emerged and I continued scrubbing away, fingers raw and calloused but I continued, cleansing the dirt. When I went back, I was swarmed. I felt even more vulnerable Scared Alone The fake frames left, cracked under my feet The vines that protected me were cut The mud that kept me hidden washed away But this is what I wanted So I left my fort built with pages Pages that whispered to me truth You were always flawless from the beginning --