Poem: Identity Theft
There's a mental conception, in my head, plain perfection - to be in the crowd but I don't fit in that section. Categorize, and they fail to accept exceptions. They get caught, and act like it's a misconception I am a misfit, from a different district. Yeah, you can see me, my appearance you just inflict. You birds flock, I purify like a dove, but you're saying things like damn, she’s too big to love. Imagine, looking at a plate and throwing up. Starvation on repeat yeah likes becoming tough.
Waking up in the morning and hunger’s a debate. Full of regret and it's for something that you ate. Thinking getting skinny the right way was too late,
push your finger down your throat tryna fade away your weight, wait! Does fitting in society mean fitting in a small dress? Well, we need to compromise because of all the stress. I couldn't handle insecurity, hated by the majority. Looked into the mirror, and I told her that I'm sorry. I cried and cried, but I hid so you can never see and, in my mind, conceived a brand-new image of me. Then I'd go out and buy clothes, expensive, all gold. They wanna buy happiness, but that shit’s all sold...out. So, they pout, and frown upon the soul that’s in me "live reality" but they live reality tv. And they tried to break me, for about my whole life. I was faking who I am, so yeah, I grabbed the knife. I didn't do it, so that's why I'm contemporary, I didn't come to my senses, my senses they came to me. And it stopped me...from blacking out... that one night. And after that, I wouldn't ever be filled with fright. I needed a way because this wasn't right. I was creating an image that wasn't even for my sight. I realized this fake me wasn't worth the price. She was created out of hate, and out of sugar and spice. It needed to end; I didn't need no further advice. So, I looked at my reflection and I spat at her twice.
She's dead, I'm born.
- Lasasha (KameKazia)