Distorted.

Twisted images crafted by a horrid figure,
Plaguing more than you would think.
Too many crying eyes that constantly disfigure.
Take a breath and try to blink.

Evil goliath creatures with tongues that shall lie,
Whispering to broken girls.
Every doubt is amplified to depths that whisk by,
Forcing tears down brimful curls.

Evenings are followed with a desperate mind’s eye,
It cries on vanity’s base.
Each one of Job’s comforters gone with a sigh,
She lifts the mirror’s dirty gaze.

Vacant eyes stare ahead at the rigid corners,
Wets streaks, and a sorrowed face.
Vacillating from thirty pieces of silver,
To call others from this place.
  
Sought out to deny the truth and believe the fake,
Girls paranoid to their fears.
Sentiments leading to an internal heart ache,
Silencing jovial cheers.

Twisted images believed from a horrid figure,
Plaguing more than you would hope.
Too many crying eyes that will always disfigure.
Take a breath and learn to cope.