Why do we distort beauty?
Beauty can be power, but it can also be a burden
I never understood, but now I do

When we are not bestowed with it,
We cage it by any and all means possible
We mock those who lack it and hate those who have it

Green monsters rise in us
We blur the pure with cold blacks and angry reds
We blame them while we try to be them
I suppose jealousy is a fickle thing

In the stories of old, they say one is blessed with beauty
To gain the admirable attention of others,
How it must feel to be dotted on

But then comes the curse
Of having too much attention
Of getting the wrong attention
Of being objectified and not respected
Of being catcalled in the streets and attempting to ignore crass comments and rude remarks.

Like the attention
Don't like the attention
To be called beautiful is such a nice thing
Until it's not.

A Wouldn’t Object Limerick

for a few reasons to objectify,
peddle her a pedestal to request
a little eyeliner, some mascara,
actual clothes of non-athletic wear lineage,
cease and desist with daily loon of lulu-ness;
dare not suggest some lipstick or heaven forbid,
a piece of jewelry sparkle, lest I be trussed
and tested, returned to the closet to join
my fella sweatpants of graying demeanor,
of colorless pallor
and
smelly familiarity