They see my shape, but they miss me…
They like my eyes, my lips, my thighs…
But they don’t see me…
The person I am beneath it all…
The clothes and skin are wearing thin.
There’s more to me, than what they see, but they don’t see me…
“Shapely curves and a pretty smile” 
It all serves to beguile.
But it will only last for a little while, these “shapely curves and pretty smile.”
They see not me, but the shape of me, the size of me, the lines of me…
And that will change with maturity.
Then what will they think of me?
Will I still be liked and loved by all, when my smile is crooked and my size not small?
Who will be left by my side?
To all my admirers – Will I still be admired?
What if my shape became unshapely?
My smile duller, my voice shriller, my eyes weaker, my manner meaker…
How will they recognize me? If what they “see” now, they don’t see?
Though some know me, they don’t know well…
The truth about me they can’t tell…
For when I speak they only hear, the bits and pieces they want to hear.
They are satisfied with the surface me…these people that surround me…
They see me…but entirely miss me.
Is this even a possibility?? For someone to truly see me?
Someone who will listen and speak volumes without speaking?
Someone I can trust… without fear of things repeating?
Someone who will hold my hand and love me without seeing?
Someone who appreciates the summation of my being?
Appreciative looks I get all the time,
Based on things about me that will fade in time…
Will someone care enough to stay and FEEL…
The me that’s ME…
My heart and soul…
The me that’s real?
Will anyone ever see? More than what they see?
Does anyone care to feel the me that’s real?
They don’t see…
They don’t care to see…