I’ve never cared much about what I look like.
I’m not one to obsess over my appearance,
Getting my makeup right,
Fighting my hair until it looks just the way I want it.
I find it all a waste of time.
People will say you’re pretty,
They’ll admire and they’ll lust,
But they don’t care about the time it took,
The choice to use your mother’s favorite lipstick,
The story behind your best friend’s blush.
They want to stare,
Not listen,
Not even see.
I’ve stopped looking at myself without makeup,
Started going out of my way to avoid my reflection.
I don’t care what I look like,
But I can’t stand to look her in the face,
The girl I used to be.
When I can see my freckles,
How my eyelashes really aren’t all that dark,
The strange curve of my left eyebrow,
All I can see is ribbons tied to the ends of twin braids,
Daisy chains,
Eyes the color of the Starry Night.
I wonder if she’d forgive me.
I wonder if I’ll forgive myself.