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Way back when I was younger
I was mistaken as a dude
They asked all sorts of questions
That slowly grew more rude

"Why don't you wear makeup?
Or dress in something nice?"
"If you ever want to get a guy
Why won't you just take our advice?"

When I began in high school
I had just begun to change
I had bought myself some cheap makeup
And clothes that just felt strange

Still, it wasn't enough though
The insults continued to come
"Ugly. Lazy. Undesirable"
It all began to make me glum

By the beginning of junior year
I had fully given in
Dresses replaced all of my jeans
And makeup covered all my skin

It was then, the insults changed
And people began to glare
Said I "cared too much about my looks"
And my "head must be full of air"

I still always got straight A's
The way I talked was still the same
But though I knew that they were wrong
Their comments made me feel lame

When senior year had rolled around
I was lonely as could be
People "liked" what I'd become
But I felt no one liked me for me

I'd never been on a single date
Because all the guys were crude
So it was only a small amount of time
Before I was labeled as a "*****"

When I finally started college
I expected something more
But people took one look at me
And labeled me a *****

I had not been sleeping around
I still hadn't even been on a date
Everyone just made assumptions
And looked at me with hate

The part that was most ironic
Was that after all these years
Of changing to be whatever they said
I was still hated by all my peers

I didn't want to dress like this
I didn't want to just conform
But there is only so much a person can take
Before they need to fit the "norm"

Society is what destroyed me
They are the reason I am this way
I changed to be what people wanted
Now I understand: I'll never see that day

I don't know who I am now
Though everyone else thinks that they do
Now please just take one piece of advice
It's so important to just stay you

You are perfect just as you are
So continue to stay strong
Remember no matter what they tell you
What society says is **wrong
Well....This is by far the longest I have ever spent on a poem....and the longest thing I've ever written. But though it is FAR from perfect, it was well worth it in my opinion, because this is something so personal and important to me.
To everyone reading this poem; no matter how old or young you are, no matter where you are, who you are, or what you have been through, please just remember you are uniquely beautiful and wonderful. People are going to tell you your whole life, that you are not good enough, or that you need to change to be accepted. ***** them. They are wrong. You have something so unique to offer the world. You are amazing and beautiful, and perfect and you DO NOT need to change. Stay strong and be EXACTLY who you are. Let yourself grow and evolve the way YOU want. Then years from now, when you have become the best you, the person YOU want to be, you can show society what true happiness, success, and beauty look like. <3 I know that all sounds super cheesy and cliche, but I don't care, and I mean every cheesy word of it.
<333333333 Stay wonderful everyone <333333333
I’ve tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
“you can’t wear red lipstick”
made me believe
I never wanted to in the first place.

for every time instead
I’ve stained my lips with cherries
learning how to tie the stems
so I can slip forget-me-knots
to the back of your throat—
do you feel my restriction now?

the razors that fly off my tongue
perk thorns on my skin,
another down stroke on my wrist
will teach me that
you were right,
shyness is a virtue.

no need to speak,
go spend one hundred dollars
and some percent for tax
to cover up,
even though I’m sure your mother told you
that cotton stains.

so make it black.
get your hair stuck
in the zipper of that sundress
and pray as you pull it out
that it will lose its pigmentation
in the process
mark a down stroke
for killing two flowers
for one bouquet.

hold it
close your eyes and throw it back,
I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway
but tradition can take a lot out of you
like what you really think—
don’t say **** in public.

instead drag your first impressions
all the way to the altar
and dress in your Sunday best
a flower on your lapel
clear on your lips
a stroke for the neat decline
of the son

I tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
my image
was my fault.

— The End —