I wasn’t made to beautiful
I’m not some flower to be admired
A perfume for you to smell
I don’t have a stem for you to pick.
I wish I could warn you
Cover myself in thorns
But then my petals would wilt into nothing
My smile curling in on itself
I’m just a book
I may have a pretty cover
Lined in gold and gilded fonts
But my words aren’t just fluff
Read my pages
Read them!
Don’t just skim
I’m not your favorite film
That you can put on repeat over and over
Watch a clip again and again just to feel pleasure
Read and you’ll find adventure
But not in a bedroom
Or the seat of a car
You’ll find it in crazy poetry
And scribbled art
Happy smiles
And twirling dances
You’ll find the story of a girl
Both happy and sad
Confident and shy
Who can’t be defined
Because there is no one like her in the entire world

But, you won’t read, they never read, they only skim
Every pair of eyes never looked at mine, their gaze looking lower
Afraid I’d notice them staring
I didn’t until it was too late
I stepped into your world, it was a mistake
But, I have no way back
No currency to purchase a ticket back to innocence
This world scares me
Barley grappling onto the girl I was
The girl who didn’t know
What a kiss felt like
Who loved everyone and didn’t care who loved her
Who could feel beautiful and not feel disgusted by the word

You ruined that
You led her in blindly and asked her to stay
While you poured cement over her feet,
To make sure she never could escape
How could she be so foolish to follow a devil disguised as an angel

I don’t want to be beautiful
I don’t try
I live everyday not wondering if I look good
I don’t care
As long as I’m covered I’ll be okay
Maybe that’s the reason why they stare
They see a mystery and wonder what’s underneath the fabric
That a smile means an invitation
A kind word means yes
That letting them touch means desire
Why can’t they see, I don’t fit the instruction manual
The stereotypes set before men to study did not include me in the index
A kind word means I want to be a kind person
A smile means to be polite
A touch means no desire for conflict
A long skirt means, I respect myself so please respect me too

But, I know that they’ll never read
They’ll only ever skim
I just hope that my soul finds its other half
Before what’s left of mine is written on by soiled hands
And then burned away in the fleeting wings of self-worth