I made up a face in
my mind it was mine but
smoother, cakier, glitterier,
camera-ready to take
on the persona of the dry, spotty layer just
beneath the
surface

her story lies behind the layers of foundation and her waterproof eyeliner
she has a name people say but an identity she can no longer come to terms with
people hand her bandages but the scars will always bleed through and she's learned to accept this
she has a script where each page opens with the question on whether or not she's okay but she never is
they tell her to go to church but there are demons within her that aren't the ones religion can simply bless and pray away
she presents eyes with a vibrant shade of brown but all she can see through them are black and white
she's troubled, in pain, lost, insecure, scared, but most of all...

she's more than the layers of foundation and waterproof eyeliner

No offense to all the females out there
But women confuse me to bits
Paint layers atop faces to disguise yourself
And you overly use terms like 'lit'

Every store I walk into to buy nessesities
A lady's eye catches mine, then glares
I'm not being mean, so what did I do?
Maybe its my overly wavy hair?

They talk about clothes of all different styles
Without fail the price is sky high
I would much rather stick to my thrift store shopping
I like jeans, some shirt, with a tie

I look at other woman compared to myself
Im plain, they are stuffed with beauty
I know Im a woman by my bodies shape
But Im the worst of the woman, you see

fail to admit
you were getting sick
stains on your teeth
from cherry red lipstick
dirt in your nails
picking up sticks
to build a house from the ground
you buried your past self in
marks on your skin
purple and blue
bleed from within
so you look vibrant in hue
your insides burn
like cherry red lipstick
but don't get the same
looks or snippets
your insides are ugly
no matter their coat
please fix them first
before you start to gloat

Even to an untrained eye
One can spot layers of foundation
Caked into her face

Is she a victim
Of some historical imperative?

Is she caged
In some arbitrary matrix?

Some fun-house of mirrors
While a mustachioed ringleader
Overcharges, shouting

“Come one, come all, bedazzled spectator
Behold, the distorted woman
Transmogrifying before your eyes!”

Or maybe she’s just vain
Or betwixt the two

Somewhere, a boy drops a sixpence
It rattles in the dusky jar
As he enters the dark show

The only makeup I wear
Is my sun kissed skin
And a light gloss of sin.
The stain of ink
And a blood driven
Flush of pink.

they tell us from a young age
to be ourselves
yet we're expected
to be like everyone else

I made my own
snowflake world
special to me
yet others found strange

they stalked their celebrity crush
and listened to rap
while obsessing over shoes
expecting others to do the same
why do I get looks
for being in my own world?

bzzrtt
-here comes loud obnoxious infomercial voice-
stop diverting
hide yourself
conceal away your desires

you are flawed
we can help
you're just one payment away
from sheep like happiness
bzzzrtt

falling under their spells
i was doomed from the start
i'm like every other teenage girl
dealing with this lipstick chaos
now I am jejune