She covered her skin,
But she still feel naked.
Head wrapped with a shawl,
Everyone can see her hair.
She was an open book,
Every move she makes in every page.
They know her curves-
They know her lines.
From eyeliners-
To shoe size.
It was all noted down-
All recorded.

Do they really know her?

Do they know she cries herself to sleep?
How much time on the mirror for the right make up?
How many texts blowing her phone about objectifying her body?
How many insults on how how she portrays to be?
How many hours she spent thinking what's missing from her?
How many hurtful comments on how she would never understand just because she's beautiful?

She will always turns head,
But she only need to turn one heart.

The one that makes all those expensive care seems worth it,
One that could make look forward to the next day,
One that could make her feel good on her fashion efforts,
That accepts her regardless of what mood she is in.


-HIY