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m i a Dec 2015
she gets up from bed

and applies her foundation

starting from her forhead

then down to her eyes

hoping to erase the cries, bruises

and the lies from last night
im making like a story thing and blah. <3
Torin Nov 2015
She sleeps in my red light
While I sleep alone
With someone
I know about empty wells
Alone I'm in a group
Alone I'm in a crowd
Singing all my songs
I'm a forsaken shepherd

So can I kiss you on the forehead
And lay these demons to rest
While the most important things
Make me smile
An incomplete poem that feels complete. If you know what I mean
JenaMarie Nov 2015
Beauty
Is an expectation in our society today
Makeup
Makes us up
Clothes
Become who we are
Beauty
Was invented to hide one's scars
Makeup
Gives us a mask
Clothes
Let us redesign who we are
Beauty
Is what drives us crazy
Girls
Are killing themselves,
to find someone who'd **** for them
Beauty
Boys face it too
Pressure
To look impressive
Desire
To be desirable
Beauty
The measurement of it
Is what should be blamed,
for our troubles
Not
Beauty itself.
Ashley Nicole Nov 2015
Rosy cheeks, enticing lips
Lashes as black as sin
But really, your true beauty
Can only be found within
Your beauty doesn't wash off with soap and water.
Alan S Bailey Oct 2015
If but for ten seconds to see you smile, to hear your voice,
Wouldn't a person fill the world with their tears
Beyond the whole of what we say is never a choice,
Burnt bridge, skies of safest planes, be it the vehicle
That kills and maims, just to hear your voice, it's all in the voice.

No one will hear you in person as often, it's not the same.

If I were to look for your visage would you appear? Show your face?
Would there be a specter of you? Every day we face our fears
Into the void of all that is lost we pay the cost
To see your face, all it is in this ruined burnt out place
A victim of wrinkles and blush, damp and dark around the eyes,

Even at war, we are all sharing the same planet in space.

Would that I could find a way to touch your skin, beyond all within,
It's a place I will never return, for life I will be lost in the dim,
The trampling the wreckage, it's all for soft skin, or to appear slim,
To see the skin it is but a vain thing but they will pay for the dream,
It's a goal they all know "we" must meet, perfect skin is bittersweet,

*Worth all of your dreams and mine, we will all get left behind...
G Oct 2015
Makeup was smeared across her face
She couldn't stay strong.
Elioinai Oct 2015
I tend to shy away from makeup
I rarely pick up spray or brush
My heart is in flesh beating
and will one day turn to dust

I don't want to put forth creme facade
so you grimace when it rains
the trails of salt from filmy tears
are all that streak my face

If foreign objects draw you
jeweled tones upon the eyes
I do not fault your fancy tastes
or call concealer lies

But love is not burst into fire
by the curving of a kohl stick
And cheeks that redden with a kiss
are all that I would wish
to feed the flame upon the wick
that brightens and brings higher
two souls too bright to miss
What you see is what God gave me
Cameron Godfrey Oct 2015
We all start with blank faces.
Ebony or
Ivory or
Olive or
Anything in between.
Skin so dark they don't sell the shade at Sephora.
Skin so light you've got to mix the color with white to make it match.
Whatever the color, it's all the same skin.

We all start with blank faces
Made of cells and covered in blemishes
Stretched thin across our cheekbones
Or hanging loose and wrinkled with age,
With lines on our foreheads like
Punishment
for laughing too much.
When did laughter become such a grievous crime?

We all start with blank faces.
… and then we become Van Gogh.
With expert brush strokes, we paint.
We coat ourselves with thick layers of pastey goop like Elmer's glue
Paint it on thick to cover our blemishes and red spots
We top it off with pigment like powdered sugar on sweets
Not knowing that the more opaque our makeup is, the more transparent.

We all start with blank faces.
… and then we become sculptors
Contouring and contorting to conform to unrealistic standards.
We highlight our best features and conceal the rest.
We conceal the redness of our cheeks just to paint it on again with blush.
We paint wings on our eyes although we'll never fly.

We all start with blank faces.
… and then we become victims of consumerism
Spending our money on different shades of the same **** thing
They raise the prices because they know they'll sell it to us anyway
They force it upon us, then shame us for becoming slaves to it
We are the victims and the perpetrators.

We all start with blank faces
… and then we become artists
… and then we become victims
… and then we become warriors

**This is our war paint.
Anna B Oct 2015
"Tomorrow you will be alright"
I comforted myself a near midnight.
Dragging the towel, moist from the sink
under my lower lids, I did never blink.

Makeup and water or makeup and tears
some may never now, as I
that lonesome, quite autumn night*
Though I lastly found with my poorly sight
that under my lids there were, well how to describe?
- I lowered the towel and looked even twice
Nothing as makeup were pouring down my eyes
but a still, matte
constant.


Sorrow

Now what about tomorrow?
I blinked and I shrank as I lowered my head in the sink.
Oh but never were I capable of washing off ink.
*referring to my poem "midnight dew".
Delia Smith Oct 2015
Why
Why
Why should you keep trying
When your best is their worst
Trying to swim with your hands tied
They comment on your form when they were on the side lines
The water is flooding your senses
All it's saying is
Your not good enough
You'll never be
Your trying to hard
Why don't you do this
Why don't you do that
Why
Instead of choline all you Taste is salt
Salt from the tears they are pouring  out of you like a Niagara Falls
Except  
People see Niagara Falls
And when your finally done with your laps
Finally
Everyone's gone
No one stayed to praise you and say good job.
So you get up and start walking
You try walking they way they do
To try to know what they know
The weights in your pockets Holding you down like a rabid dog
Like they think your poisonous
What they don't know is
How the rhythm less dance and how the artist paints
But you take away that person
The old you
The old you who you loved
who didn't have a thigh gap never wore make up but was still beautiful
The new you is the new it
The one everyone wants to be
Your standing on a soap box telling everyone love your body and accept your self
When
As soon as you get home your makeups running and you cover the mirror
You don't want to see the old you
You also want to be the new you
But the thing you  have to pretend to Love
Love is a complex thought that you tell everyone you have mastered
But if you don't love the real you
how can love someone else
So how do expect someone to love you when if they touch your face its powder.
So you weep in fear that they will know your a fake
They will find out what your trying to hide
But if thats really beauty why aren't we born with make up.
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