This, love.

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This girl,
She looks in the mirror,
Admiring her beauty
She smiles,
Showing her feelings
She laughs,
With an adorable chuckle

But, can you tell?
This girl,
She has gone through so much,
So much strife fell,
In her shattered heart.

The media,
Literature, films, and music
Nothing more than lies
Of love.
In her opinion.
This girl,
She was a believer,
Faith so strong,
Now a skeptic.

This girl, she tried so hard
For love,
Not the would have beens.
Love.
She could call her own.
A now distant, foreign experience.

This girl,
To herself, and only herself,
She looks in the mirror,
Questioning her beauty
She smiles,
Masking her feelings
She laughs,
With a sad chuckle

Her heart, torn asunder
She wants someone,
Acknowledgment
To notice her wardrobe
When she's having her day
This girl,
She knows she is beautiful,
But she wants to hear that redundancy
From everyone,
Doesn't every woman want that consistency?

This girl,
She hides her sadness,
Becoming strong,
Independent,
Determined.
She wants,
No pity,
No sympathy,
Just, honesty.

But still,
This girl, she hopes to experience love,
Not now,
Not soon,
One day.
Not for her make-up,
Not for her dress,
Not for her body,
But for her heart,
Her beauty,
Her smiles,
Her laughs.

And so, she puts on her headphones
Carried away by fantasies
As she sings and hums
Mumbling over lyrics where she can't remember.

This girl,
She looks in the mirror,
Admiring her beauty
She smiles,
Showing her feelings
She laughs,
With an adorable chuckle

One day, I hope
This girl,
Can say
Is
This, love?





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