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Nik Jun 2016
i think i cry too much

i keep my mouth closed
using super glue like it's lipstick
i tie my wrists together so i can't use my tears as ink and write my secrets into poetry

is it still considered a secret even though i don't spill it from my mouth but from my eyes
a river of secrets trails its way along my cheeks until a fountain of truth begins to fill on my pillow
my pillow must have nightmares from my constant sobs that often turn to screams

sometimes i can hear my pillow sobbing with me
Tolani Agoro May 2016
Don't love me for my picture perfect days
For that is not who I truly am
Don't love me for the days my hair looks flawless
For that isn't really me
Don't crave me for the days my makeup is done perfectly
For I am full of flaws
Love me for me
Love the me that has acne on her skin
And face wrinkles when she grins
And struggles to grow eyebrows
Love the me who's face goes puffy when she cries
And the me who has stretch marks on her thighs
Love the me that gets too emotional about her favourite films
Love the me that rolls out of bed in the morning, tired eyed, scattered hair and all
Love that me
For I am not my picture perfect days
I am a girl who's full of flaws
Love me that way and I will love you without pause
For I am perfect in my imperfect way
I hope you see my flaws and decide to stay
the Sandman May 2016
It is 1:20 am
And I am at 7%
And I have only one bar of signal
And my screen tells me
"Reconnecting..."
                                
                              I'm 93% done with 'us;'
                              You have drained each per cent of my patience.
                              I'm getting mixed signals
                              From the language of your body,
                              And very few at that.
                              But I take a chance on us,
                              Another chance,
                              At this hour of lateness,
                              Maybe we can rebound and re-bond
                              And not just reminisce.
                              I reckon we could
                              Reconnect.
The feel of your kiss
pressed against my head
was enough
to light a fire
within me.

The flame was so strong
that I'm not sure that
the river in front of us
would of held enough water
to extinguish it.

It calmed momentarily
by me placing a peck
on your cheek but
came into full flame when
your lips finally met mine again.
It was a good feeling however momentarily
Kate Willis May 2016
Those red lips,
forged by MAC
are but only one color
in the endless stream of
existing shades.
A random thought that came through my head during a car ride through the city.
Julie Apr 2016
Art
I am a makeup artist,
Hiding tears behind my masterpiece.

I can draw you smiles,
Paint you laughter,
Doodle you little dimples,
Glue glitter to your eyes.

I am a makeup artist,
don't be afraid.

I do it to myself all the time.
jinx Apr 2016
She is so weird
She is so weird
She is so weird

The other girls all float around with their eyes painted like cats,
Rounded with black and flicked up at the end, but she
Swims with
her eyes painted like fish
One little flick down
One little flick up at the
End and
The other girls whisper about her
Saying

She is so weird
She is so weird
she is so weird

because
She has watercolor lips
In pretty shades of pink
Not sharp
And
Red
Like the other girls
She is not a collection of edges and shadows, she is
Soft and

She is so weird
She is so weird
She is so weird

She looks dreamy
And sometimes
Confused
The other guys whisper that
There is
Not much there
In her head
And that

she is So weird
She is so weird
She is so weird

She has three black lines embedded in the
Side of the
skin on her neck
Stacked like deep
Vs lined under
Each other and once I asked her
If they were birds in flight
Or gills
And she laughed
It wasn’t cruel
She pulled me close
And whispered both
With a smirk
And then she smiled wide
And shook her head and told me
That

I Am so weird
I am so weird
I am So weird

And though I knew it was an insult
When the cats whispered it
It wasn’t one when it came from the fish
Cody Haag Apr 2016
Whenever I must add new people to my life,
I feel that it is my duty to be my most likable version,
And because of that, I wear makeup, straighten my hair,
And lose myself in aesthetic immersion.

I feel better when I feel pretty,
And that breaks my heart.
I never thought my happiness,
Was such a simple and vain art.
Kate Willis Apr 2016
Why are we so
Obsessed,
with the liquid paint
that we slather on our
faces-
morning after morning?

We stroll the isles of
Fifty shades of Nudes
to find the shade
that makes us look like
Painted glass
Porcelain dolls,
and Fake.

Why?
Why are we so obsessed with
Maybelline and
Covergirl and
Elf?
The brands that contour
our faces
and create an illusion
a canvas
Over-painted by
Overpriced
Chemicals.

Beauty costs
Money.
Youth.
Clear skin.
But it brings this sense of
false hope that
maybe-
we can accept ourselves
after we put on this paint
and call it beauty.

We see Photoshop,
the blurred lines,
the perfect wing,
and the rosy shade of blush
that seems perfectly
Fake.
Too perfect to be real
Too perfect to be real.

And yet we strive,
for this unattainable beauty.
The **** we see on
Facebook
YouTube
Instagram
drives us crazy
because no matter how hard we try
no matter how much we waste
we can’t seem to get that
contour right
and that wing sharp
and that mascara clump-less
and that lipstick perfect.

And even though
we cannot seem to get it right,
we buy
we strive
to be the perfect shade of perfection.
Because we’re obsessed.
I edited this again; added and deleted some things.
Eva Amelia Apr 2016
Art
Begin.
Ready your work area and clean your surface.
Prime the texture of your canvas:
             Smooth out all those exterior bumps and grooves.
             Always allow time for the last to relax.
Laying your foundation is the subsequent step:
             Be sure to pat a bare layer of skin all about.
             Brighten under those eyes
             before moving forward.
             Once more, allow your layers to relax.
Contour those ****** features to reveal an under-truth,
illuminate curvatures of shadow and light:
             Sweep in, sharpening under those cheekbones.
             Sweep out, lightening the cheeks.
             Sweep up, darkening those temple.
             Sweep underneath, sculpting that jawline.
             Sweep down, deepening the nose.
             Blend, blend, blend.
Redden those cheeks:
             Moderate your quantity,
             balance your quality.
Add a splash of color behind those bright eyes:
             Beige, Corduroy, and Chocolate.
             Again, always blend.
Darken those eyebrows:
             Bend the brow around—
             highlight under that curve!
Line those eyes with coal:
             Carefully curve over those waterlines,
             Steady your hand, do not to smudge.
Curve your brush up, up, up:
             Build those lashes.
             Open those eyes ever wider.
Accentuate those relaxed lips with a pleasant hue.
Before the final step, double-check for any unintentional slip.
Dust with finishing powder before overlaying with a setting spray.
End.

Afterward, review your work:

             First, remember your anticipating canvas, ready to be refashioned.
             Now, appreciate her every extraordinary color and unique curve.
             Finally, admire not just the craft, but also the delicate and dedicated crafting.

This reflection, our masterpiece.
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