Dear Woman Inside

Flaps of skin.
Beneath my pits
Above my Tits
Where my ass sits

blanketing my seat
shadowing my eyes
bordering my smile
A beauty in disguise.

My body changes
but a child inside
I search high and low
where that woman hides

She's supposed to be confident
She's supposed to be ready
Her stance courageous
Her eyes steady

I await her fury;
The paradigm afire
To tell me I'm perfect
To steer my desire

Where is the woman?
I long for her still
There's a hole in my image,
I need her to fill

I'm a girl with dark circles
A skin tag at my ribs
A writer in theory
and a waitress to live

I'm a girl, yet with crow's feet
Crow's that scramble and loom
They balk at my sagging
My impending doom

They squeal at my misfortune
Like twenty-two on the fly
Where is this monumental woman
Who holds her head so high?

I'm a girl; I'm afraid
I don't know where I stand
I hold neither money or photoshop
in my wrinkled hand

I have warts on my feet
and acne scars on my cheeks
I'm imperfect, and I'm strong
See me cry, hear me speak

This is my body,
And this is my soul
I appear put together
But I'm not in control

My supposed to's are weary
My desires still sound
I'm searching, I'm stunning
I'm not easily found

May the magazines be used
As fuel to my flames
I'll set fire to the pressures
of the woman untamed

Come out, Come out
Where you claim to reside
Come to me
Dear woman, inside