#makeup
I gazed upon the mirror’s tease,
Its whispers begged, “Enhance, oh please!”
But lipstick, blush they made me yawn,
For isn’t beauty better drawn?
A woman scoffed, “What’s this, disgrace?
A bit of rouge could save your face!”
I chuckled soft, a playful dart,
“My dear, I’ve mastered makeup art.
For years I posed, a glossy doll,
Yet never truly felt at all.
Now bare and bold, I feel divine,
This face, this me, is wholly mine.
Some crave the paint; that’s fair, indeed,
But I’ve outgrown the mirrors’ need.”
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 4:05 AM UTC
I put on my heels, tights and dress
after my makeup is done
my eyebrows drawn on
nothing you see is natural
and yet it's still me
the timid girl
shy and sweet is how they know me at school
yet when I get home
the drag spirits posses me
and I can be loud, courageous and free
no me is truer than another
they can coexist
in harmony
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 1:00 PM UTC
sometimes I stare at my face for so long
that it looks like clay
maybe it's the caked on makeup
maybe it's my nose sticking out between my sunken eyes
maybe it's the desire to mold it into something new
when I was told to get creative
I didn't know it meant to use the clay on the table
not the clay covering the mirror
but sometimes, I stare at it for so long
that the clay starts to sparkle
and my eyes read the creator of the sculpture
and all it says is love
because every piece of clay
and every face
is moulded by love
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 5:20 PM UTC
Fashion’s a verb
an action word
something you do.
A subtle brush of blush
cheeks dusted with peach
eyes, smudge-framed with kohl
a soft fingertip of powder on the nose
so it doesn’t like-Rudolph-reindeer glow
A shimmer of glimmer arching over lids
A bit, a spark, of barely-there bronzer,
and on the lips, a trace of glossy color.
Alchemy or pretty pollution
Chasing radiance on tired skin
powdered to porcelain
Yesterday's bad decisions
hidden by good DNA
and makeup in a cliché
of desperate optimism.
Disclaimer: Tell your doctor
if you show signs of delusion
and begin to believe the illusions
.
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Songs for this:
One Way or Another by Blondie
Rush by Troye Sivan [E]
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:46 AM UTC
tonight, can i be your girlfriend?
pulling your hips close to mine,
creating a safe space for both of us
while paying for your dinner
wiping the crumb off your cheek
spoiling you with gifts
massaging your tired muscles
and letting you sit there pretty
reminding you how much i’d fold
and i’d do your laundry for you
i’m rewarding you with pleasure…
while loving and listening to you
allowing you to breathe
and admiring you like art
as the sight of you melts me
oh sweetheart, i yearn to:
gift you my love of independence
entertaining you with my knowledge
feeding you, satisfying you, serving you
sharing with you my perfume, my clothes
exchanging lipstick colours, shoes
smearing each other’s makeup
and seeing that beautiful laugh
reminds me how lovely it is to be a woman
who’s proud to serve another one.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 10:21 AM UTC
One could say...
Poetry is like make-up;
Each thought, each word,
Every line,
Is made up —
And it can look and feel like
porcelain,
Or cracked and craggy lines,
placed painstakingly
or slapped on like Picasso's fine (est) —
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 9:13 PM UTC
but she'll crack a joke and it'll fry in the pan
yoke running suntans like we're not burnt
plan like we weren't drowning in tick marks
learnt that those sparks don't set us alight
snarks sizzle and kite our cheap cameras up
fight or flight, cock-ups stroll us over to both
makeup's made of oaths and expired lippies
and
growth was just memories we'd left behind
cities were left unsigned and roosters hum
spellbinds bit off crumbs of our holidays
sums done sideways with scrambled minds
haze of upturned blinds flip us sunny-side
rinds of orange chide us but our hats are gone
stride down, we egg on, sandals beg mercy
but
crayons colour sprees in glasses-off views
degrees weren't those corkscrew rollercoasters
drive-thru karaoke, poster bed fairy lights dim
toasters retorted, skim reading as shoes kick dust
limbs stiff, favour a cuss but don't do big talk
buses see less than walks, distance is a job
toolbox couldn't fix this throb.
so
maybe if we hadn't lit the fuse twice
it might not have fireworked so quick
but i'm glad we rolled that dice
getting summered was a cement
to those heat-blown bricks.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 10:48 AM UTC
Cut the flesh upwards,
Bend your bone cot.
Be aware of everything,
Soul scissors don’t stop...
Our oceans stay so iron sweet,
And this will never change...
Our corrector eye lens cameras stay in range, far...
Our mystery.
Messy makeup burnt.
We’re not perfect but we are what we learn...
And this is where we start, from the pain beauty curves and carves a new art...
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 6:37 PM UTC
Ugly ugly girl
You try so hard, but it never works
You paint your face to make it clear
You wear lashes so your eyes are big
And line your lips so they look full
You even try to fix your nose
The curl in your hair is to match your face
And the hairspray so it doesn’t go away
Lastly perfume so they say you smell sweet
Yet even with the money you pay
Or the time you spend
Stroking, drawing, blending for perfection
You still seem so broken
Like you’ve always been
It never goes away no matter how hard you try to cover it
Ugly ugly girl
You try so hard but it never works
You will never stop aching to be pretty
So you can be put back together
Aug 1, 2025
Aug 1, 2025 at 2:10 AM UTC
He didn’t want me at my best, so I gave him my worst
He didn’t want me or even *** so I won’t be his first
Fading into the background in the caverns
The caverns of this fleeting beautiful person’s mind
Alone again, but still longing for a time
Where I could be wanted and I was able to want
Nor a version of who I am fabricated
Loved, desired, and celebrated
Without makeup and hours toiling on my face
Nor having to beg anyone with a pulse to stay
Let alone this soul who will slowly go away
Jul 20, 2025
Jul 20, 2025 at 12:56 PM UTC
Why am I wearing this?
I should be wearing 3 layers,
beating my face and burning my hair.
Why am I comfortable?
I should be walking while my hands freeze.
It doesn't feel right,
starting off with you,
and ending without you.
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 10:49 PM UTC
The sun is up again, the cameras follow suit,
Another daily episode in your scripted life,
Wake up, make up, kiss it up to others,
You wonder, what shade shall it be today?
We live in a society of sycophants and hypocrites,
Deceit is the trending beauty brand in this generation,
To remain of importance on high status you need to follow the trend,
We've got the liars' lipstick, the eye service eyeshadows,
and most importantly, the cover-up concealer!
Come on, come on don't pout now,
Showing emotion is a presumably forbidden act,
Keep it all hidden, go grab your concealer,
Say you need to powder your nose,
don't forget to touch up that fake smile.
Finally home alone you can take it all off,
Don't worry, Mr. Mirror maybe honest but he doesn't judge,
Wipe away your concealer, unveiling that animalistic snarl,
Finally giving way to your true colours.
Mar 20, 2025
Mar 20, 2025 at 4:40 PM UTC
Over the holidays, I was watching Lisa’s sister little Leeza, she’s 14.
She has a rebellious fashion sense and a joyful innocence.
She’s still fearless too, and on-God, I hope she never loses that.
Too soon though—the disco’s coming to town—the world’s coming for her. It’s the same for all of us, I suppose, but in Lisa and my cases, covid shut it all down.
It’s a rite of passage—the shoes, the bodycon dresses and the makeup. Those carry negative connotations, I get it, but there’s an excitement too, about finally getting to dress like an adult—a woman—in one of those bodycon, cut-out dresses.
I know the pressures on women and their bodies, but at her age, it's not all stress, cattiness and comparisons—it’s just innocent teen fun. She and her posse can take hours just dressing and doing their make-up—together. It’s probably the best part of their night.
Leeza’s dad (Michael) saw the little group of teens, all dolled-up and launched, like a SpaceX Starship. Pacing the living room, he quietly opined to Karen (her mom), “I don’t want her going out dressed like that.”
Karen was right there with him to cool things down, “No, *** at her age, it’s about self-expression, learning and girl bonding—these connections are really important in the girl-world.”
I’m not worried about Leeza’s physical safety. These girls are watched over and gently curated. Their every movement is orchestrated and security escorted—hell, Hamas couldn’t get to them—much less some gropey boy.
There’s just this new awareness these days of how unhappy some people are—and a lot of them are teen girls. I wouldn’t want to see Leeza mired in the sad, brain-draining social media pressure and self-esteem traps.
Teenhood is scary—I was feelin’ positively parental.
Then I looked at Lisa, and I was reminded that they’ve done all this before, and she has a big-sister, role-model too.
.
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Songs for this:
Good Time Girl (feat. Charlie Barker) by Sofi Tukker
Dance To This (feat. Ariana Grande) by Troye Sivan
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 11:12 AM UTC
You can paint your face with makeup
Hide the insecurities
But you always stay the same underneath
Dec 10, 2024
Dec 10, 2024 at 1:19 PM UTC
Happy,
But alone.
You miss me so much
I can see it in your eyes and look
The make up screams at me
The quotes are indirect
It's beautiful to see and quite frankly
I miss you too
Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 5:57 AM UTC
J D Vance has such smoky, smoldering eyes, doesn’t he?
The way those baby blues coruscate, as if from the darkness.
Are those shadows natural? No, it’s eyeliner, of course, but on
a 40-year-old man it’s called guyliner.
Any teenage girl will tell you the kohl pencil is the gateway makeup tool for self-definition, if not exactly self-improvement.
As an ex-teenage girl, I can picture the hours senator Vance spent,
hunched over his laptop watching make-up tutorials on TikTok or
Instagram, analyzing eyeliner techniques in overwhelming detail.
TikTok clips are today’s replacement for the Teen Vogue magazine
product pages of back-in-the-day. I recall watching these videos,
at 14 and devolving into a fog of envy and inadequacy.
JD began wearing guyliner in 2016, so he probably watched those
at age 33 and by now, he’s certain to have upped his game by having them permanently, cosmetically tattooed on.
Of course, Trump himself has never been one to shy away from makeup.
His weird, orange, glazed-ham look comes from his preferred spray-on concealer, ‘Bronx Colors,’ a cruelty-free makeup manufacturer in Switzerland.
If this all sounds too judgy, I’d like to say, “JD, I’ve felt your clearly adolescent girl pain, and I get your desire to represent a softer and more romantic republican political aesthetic.”
And let’s not forget that Kamala’s been known to wear makeup herself.
Here are before and after JD Vance eyeliner pics - you decide: daweb.us/jdVance.png
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Songs for this:
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue by Falco
Gonna Get Along without you now by She and Him
Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 12:45 PM UTC
i come home crying
tears slither down my cheeks
i am simply ugly
for my nose is too big, horribly wide and contorted
my eyes are too small, beads of obsidian on my pale face
and my chapped lips are thin like crushed scribbled paper
my forehead is too big, i could write all of this down on it if i wanted to
why must i seek validation from those who will never respect me, even in my purest form
but my purity is not good enough
society gazes upon me with it's large luminous eyes
i am sorry that my hair is not straight enough
or i am flat
and when i look in the mirror my reflection cries, its hands reaching out to me through the fractured glass
yet why must i weep
beauty is in everything,
in the smoldering fire which dimly lights my cold room, sending marmalade sparks across the floor,
in the grimey walls, grout growing in the cracks and spray paint slowly crackling off,
in the failed paintings, where the splotches of cobalt and splashed of marigold are too thick,
in the cheap foundation i slather across my face,
in the maths equations my brain cannot contemplate,
and even in me,
there is beauty
Oct 1, 2024
Oct 1, 2024 at 6:23 PM UTC
Rendered offenses
Sweat in the opinion, sakes
And due attention, to reason amends
Acting only a little saner, the stark stare a host makes...
Do you notice, evermore?
Anyway, the truth we prepose of...
Has a callous beginning, too sore
For a challenge of wisdom, that even does?
Prayers of dour anger...
For the aspire and means we favor
With a realm to a touch, tough knowing you and life's danger...
The reality of another fight, with sin as the futures flavor?
Speed has a question, dwindling in the wind
Suspect days, to redoubt and list the scope of an argument
That has the silence we afforded it, to keep the shadows of kin
Proper is as proper had, the hush of simple tomorrows, a problem to relent...
Toward sharing, the taste of a hoping kiss...?
That when recognized, sympathy is an answer; only a heed can tell...
The prayer of estrangement, has become a chastity's wish
Will a savior in love, know the better of kindness; here's your hell...
With a baring lip, that has suggested a toothsome reply to quips
And hearts to accept the solace of terror, a harrowing finish to past lies...?
That began and ended with a promise found in the bolting and gray wits
Of a dread simplicity, still running to wisdom's charity, which requited...
Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 8:55 PM UTC
I hated it.
Every single time
you called me beautiful,
I hated it.
I get it;
I have blue eyes,
long hair,
a thin body.
Everything you wanted.
But there's so much more to me than that.
I bet you wouldn't have liked me
if I had shorter hair
and a little extra weight.
That's why I realized I don't want a guy
who constantly calls me beautiful.
I want to be called
mesmerizing,
fascinating,
breathtaking.
Those words say much more about the real me
than "beautiful" ever will.
Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 1:47 AM UTC
Get out your sponges, stippling brushes and pens,
It’s time for makeover-Monday-night to begin.
Think Winky Lux, L’Oréal, Urban Decay,
Maybelline, Armani and Fabergé
It’s a black magic realm where brushes are wands,
where a carnival of colors are carefully crayoned.
We have palettes aplenty, in kaleidoscope hues,
to create fashion looks, both bold and subdued.
In the realm of makeup fashion, where trends never end,
we remodel each other - for fun - when we can.
Tonight, our new friend Jammie has come to watch us play,
and he even brought two bottles of chardonnay.
Lisa has a ‘Miss Rose’ case, like she saw in Bernadette Peters’
dressing room, on a backstage tour of the Shubert Theatre.
Konjac, Kabuki, Doe foots, Spoolie, Lisa’s got legit tools to use.
“When it comes to makeup,” she says, “always avoid dupes.”
That night I was the chosen face, the excited living canvas.
Lisa’s a practiced artist, her process is brisk and never tedious.
She painted my lips a crimson cherry, alluring and brightly sensuous,
my brows were moonlit art, my cheeks a midnight adumbrated edifice.
Lisa created a special look, where rebellious edge met elegance.
We took some snaps, then I washed it off - but Jammie was impressed!
Jun 6, 2023
Jun 6, 2023 at 10:51 PM UTC
I’m sporting this new lipstick
it won’t fade, smudge or smear
I’ll be lucky if it wears off this year.
I’ve got this new eyeliner that’s like
a luxurious, glittering, penciled tattoo
Leong asked, “How do you get it off you?”
I unpacked these chemical wonders
to see if they’ve lost their luster
by being neglected since last summer.
When you study too much, you feel pent-up,
so my compadres and I chose to get dolled-up,
rolling-up to dinner, like beauty queens on parade,
and not just sophomore scrubs trying to make the grade.
Dec 18, 2022
Dec 18, 2022 at 9:07 AM UTC
~
*Imagine a box
In shadow
Of utter regalia
Iris, dressed as a waterfall
She comes scattered
Imagine an eyelid illusionist
Praying for more palettes
Enters steelbook cathedrals
To a ministry of colour
For the street outside
Cannot offer as
Interesting a hue
As those fascinating within
The pigment of her imagination
It's compelling artistry
Like oil on canvas
A slight of hand
Smoke and mirrors
Her skilled fingers
Kohl mining
For soft medley
And the new liminality
Above the spectator's eye*
~
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 1:02 PM UTC
the cracks in the mirror
start to show
makeup morning
clown
becomes the show
unrecognisable face
made up to be
someone you know
still laughing
just not sure at what anymore
Feb 6, 2022
Feb 6, 2022 at 2:34 PM UTC
She wears no mask
She wears no make up
You look into her eyes
You get what you see
Feb 2, 2022
Feb 2, 2022 at 12:22 PM UTC
I knew her before
She coloured her hair.
She'd wash and brush,
With a simple part down the middle.
I remember it falling silently over
Her shoulder blades, down her back.
It always looked like that,
After a full day at the lake.
And I knew her before
She used cosmetics
The way they're used this day.
Her cheeks glowed with youth,
Her brows arched like shorelines;
Lashes balanced droplets
Over rushing ruby lips.
I knew her to play tennis,
To swim, run,
To laugh and be fun.
I knew her
With lights on,
At dusk and at dawn.
I knew her for long.
I knew her so long.
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 5:42 PM UTC