If only cute were a pill to be taken on a whim I’d have a bottle near at hand to imbibe when calls handsome is the normative good enough for most days still the angst is realized when something more is desired
shirking off the past mantle history stacked upon today asks its due when the urge to bedazzle comes forward stepping out the winsome looks hitting all the high notes surely this may be chased when the enchanting is pursued
perhaps this is too much asking why the itch is there judgment raising its concern to be put out to the curb there are reasons for the thirst chasing images clearly seen promoted by society these are options to be embraced
cuteness springs from within it’s not sourced from a pill pharmaceuticals aren’t enough to project gorgeous looks instead the push is in the mind wearing the outward to impress the choices made are personal provoking beauty to be observed.
The poem “Cute Where a Pill” was inspired by an instance when I wore a very sleek black pencil dress. I personally felt quite **** in it as I tapped into how I would like to present myself and my attributes. The actual presentation was something else. A dear friend said that I looked handsome. I said that I wanted to be cuter. **** was not equating with cute, and I’ve expressed in prose the struggle I’m experiencing.