perspective

Through the looking glass I see
high cheek bones and big dark eyes
covered with endless dark chocalate skin
a big smile that brings my eyes to slits
with teeth that gleam but could be whiter
flurescent in appearance would be nice
nothings ever good enough
tiny little breast that already hang in my youth
thighs built for running marathons
but lack in actual muscle ability
big trunks with little branches
that sprout form the end like a tree standing on its' branches
skin riddled in history lacking an even smooth texture
but that's alright with me
through the looking glass i see all the things I am and all the things I want to be
my reflection tells a story of triumph
running through life barefoot and blistering
hoping not to step on glass
pulling it out with my teeth if i do
I've gotten lost and made my way back home
In a cycle of too much time and a restless spirit
with a bag full of stories and my back a little stronger
walking tall on the sunny side of the mountain
I  follow the fire the emperor of yang
wherever it burns
save your comments, thoughts, perspectives, and judgements till the end
I don't care and neither do they matter
for I doubt we see the same thing
and the only thing that matters is who do I see?
through the looking glass I see all the things I am and all the things I want to  be