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Elizabeth C Sep 27
You are confidence on a brush
Beauty in a bottle
I paint over my flaws
Powder my imperfections
Contour my cares away
I wake up early just to put you on
You smooth skin no scars
Defined eyebrows for days
Cheekbones for weeks
You make society tolerate my face

See you can never win
If I don’t put enough of you on I’m ****
“You look tired.”
“Are you ok? You don’t look so good.”
Put on too much of you and I become a ****
“Don’t cake it on. Gross.”
“She just puts all that makeup on for attention.”
“I like the no makeup look more.”
They don’t realize that that look includes you, too.
People don’t appreciate you.
But that’s ok. I do.

So thank you
For my elongated eyelashes
My eyeliner so sharp it could slice expectations in half
I realize you don’t actually cover up flaws because there aren’t any to cover up
But I appreciate you nonetheless
Naked Writing Sep 19
we learned in science class
that pressure
makes diamonds
out of coal
there is so much pressure
to be perfect
I don’t want to be
a flawless cushion cut
bought from a velvet case
where I was kept on display

I want to be
the seafoam green
smooth center edges sharp
ocean tumbled piece of sea glass
someone discovers
on the shore
and says, she is imperfect
but she is exactly
what I’ve been looking for
Anya Sep 19
I held back the waterfall
threatening to pour
Is it passive resignation?
I don't believe so
It feels more like...
Taking joy in the little things
But clutching onto a hope
that the world
my world
my story
will just evolve into just about every book
I've read
A happy story
I mean-it is
But, it's imperfect
Filled with incessant
pity parties
I'm not friendless
I'm not heart broken
I have my family
I have talent
I have resources
I live in a great community
I have a great education
Endless opportunities
At my disposal
If I just reach
It's impossible to feel perfect
And impossible to shrug off the laziness
The complacency
The flaws
It's important to be greatful
And I am
If I had the opportunity to trade
I definitely wouldn't
It is true that sometimes
I'm smacked in the face
with the imperfections
the flaws
of my world
that I strive towards
I must keep striving towards

I feel better now.
Kwamé May 3
They say a rose by any other name will still smell as sweet
But what about another color
Will a black rose still captivate the heart
And remind you of love?
Or will it be ****** doomed and cast away
Its aroma enchant you and fill you with **** or will it remind you of death and decay
This ***** is strong
Its stems carry the burden of people forgotten
This ***** is dangerous
Its thorns stab and *****
In the name of vengeance
Vengeance for every rose cast aside for its imperfections
This ***** is beautiful
Its petals flawless and noble
A red rose thrives in the sun and wilts under pressure
But the black rose
Grows in all conditions
Plants strong roots in concrete
and despite the odds
I rise!
Black plight
joel jokonia Sep 7
How best do you say LOVE IS BLIND
How best do you express it?

Is it to you part of the puzzle that completes the picture
Dull, Bright colors that makes you appreciate
the pain
the hurt
the love
the smiles.....

How best do you say LOVE IS BLIND
How best do you express it?

Do you break into a brief giggle


How does one accept your imperfections and love you
How does one oversee your humiliating form and call you a MASTERPIECE.
His universe.

What price would you have to pay to be loved, if it wasn't?

How best do you say LOVE IS BLIND
How best do you express it?

I fell into your arms and chose to ignore the brewing storm
I had nothing to hold onto
You broke me. Once. Twice.
I love you.

So should i leave because you torture me
Should i stay because you chose to accept me
inverse conspiracy. an idea that bad may be for a good reason. love is blind has been a phrase to refer only to the pain it comes with choosing to oversee our loved one's flaws.
Maybe when we learn to embrace
the fact that we are Human,
We're far from perfect,

Maybe when we begin to accept
the fact that we have problems,

Maybe then we'll begin to find
the solutions.
Faith Jun 24
i think your scars are pretty.
i know,
they are meant to reflect pain,
or suffering,
or both.
but i cant stop looking at them,
and seeing how much beauty,
they add to your skin.
Hg Jun 8
i keep on seeing stars
as freckles
on people's faces

i ask them ain't it cool
that you were born
with constellations?

but spots on skin to them

they think they need make up
to cover up
their galaxies

like this one person I know
looks like ice cream
that's been peppered

the dots on her arm
come from her grandma
who's a leopard

but she says that she hates them
she calls them

cause back in school
kids mocked her for
her speckled complexion

a bully
named georgina
used to call her a giraffe

more girls joined in
and even then
her friends began to laugh

internalizing this
like a black hole
inside her mind

the dots of her
self confidence
had never been aligned

then a tear streamed down her cheek
she sniffled
and shivered

i'd never seen her sad
didn't know what to do
so I poked her

poked her face to show
my favorite star
below her eye

told her when we speak
it's like i'm talking
to the sky

and every time she blinks
that freckle vanishes
from sight

so every time she cries
a star goes missing
from the night

shame is taught
to many of us
at such an early age

comparing our looks
to everyone
as if we're made the same

girl you are spectacular
no matter of

your tears are shooting stars
made up of cosmic ice
and chemistry

now i thought that that was clever
but saying that
was DUMB

cause as I'm seeing stars
she says she’s been
seeing someone

yeah Ice Cream's
got a boyfriend
right now he's just away

i should have seen
that coming from
a mile milky way

you wish upon a star
to find someone
that’s wishing too

maybe one day
i’ll meet that one
but i wish it was you

i gotta say goodbye
i guess it ain't
the time or space

it just ain't right
that every night
i still will see your face
revenant Jun 9
There’s an ancient duct tape patched
roller suitcase still up in the attic,
scarred by sky miles and undiscerning
indifference;  it came to rest like a final breath
exhaled at the end of the long road ―

In the dusty rafters of silent repose  
the death of an alter-ego comes to life
and jars and jogs the  sleeping dogs 
that lay benign as a pothole riddled road

Holding onto memories buried alive,
hidden away remembered ― 
      sans wings to fly away
laid bare unweighed with the weight
of everything else garnered and saved
      subsisting in a shallow grave;
hoarded and hidden away breathing
locked up with the other baggage borne
       behind tired eyes

Feeling the ache of blood stained knees
falling down sullied at the side of the road
Hindsight and a roll of duct taped memories
linger;   stuck to the  grey bandage scars,
second guessing should have thrown out
with the permanently temporary
fading plasticized luggage name-tags
back when I was still close enough to care;
too many miles to reconsider  ago

Some say: "it's the journey not the destination"
Some day when its too late we'll know
Some day it will be too late to make amends
        for everything i could not be ...

           harlon rivers ... 07  06  2018
apologies for the inconsistent reading, posts and replies.  Internet access comes and goes up here off the grid
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