What is Beauty?
I’ve been trying to figure out what beauty is.
Beauty is easy on the eyes. A living landscape built to bloom.
Lighting up the room with pure pleasance.
Removing the apocalypse with it’s presence.
The opposite of repulsive, it’s viscerally compulsive.
Like opening a heart without surgery
or witnessing truth without perjury.
It’s a reflection of your inner image of perfection.
An institution a visual yet musical revolution.
A credit your species evolution.
Beauty is a memory of parental divinity.
Awesomeness stretching to infinity.
Sometimes superseding tangibility
while having a distinctly physical effect.
Wishing to someday become beautiful
can seem an unreasonable aspiration,
when you believe it to be a situation
you’re either born with or trained in
from an early age.
What is beautys’ gauge?
It always sounds a trite platitude to hear beauty is all about attitude.
Talk of inner beauty feels like a runner up prize full of lies.
What is Inner Beauty?
How do I comb it and tone it to make it more attractive?
What can i accessorize it with?
Where can I buy a line of inner beauty products to cover it in social standard
on days when i feel internally unappreciable?
Possessing outer beauty can also leave you burned
spending a lifetime praised for something you never earned.
Unaware there’s anything left to be learned.
Beauty becomes calloused when rubbed by too many eyes.
Hard when too much pressure’s applied.
And withers away, when perpetually denied.
Beauty is a comparative inevitability, a pawn in the game of popularity.
A wonderous singularity where the stars have aligned in your mind
to combine and form the figure of an irregularly rare and beautiful being
A desirable form can spark my lust, but I think that beauty is more about trust.
Less horny and more about happiness chosen, warming your heart till it becomes unfrozen.
Never forced only gently released, the more unadorned the greater increased.
It’s acceptance of self with no need for escape,
knowing beauty shines through every shape.