Friday, January 10, 2014

Pain is beauty

I think it’s really messed up that the first thing I think
When I start crying is whether my make up is ruined
Because that’s what is most important right?
Not the reason for crying, but looking okay while upset
Don’t let them know
Wipe away the mascara black stains rolling down your rosy cheeks
I’ve become warped by the idea that what I look like is
The most important part of me
The compliments that are supposed to make me feel good
Just create this outer shell and destroy what’s inside
Because what’s inside has no worth
According to the people who keep reinforcing my face
Instead of my thoughts or my words
And instead of trying to be the best person I can be
I want to be what ever “pretty” is because that’s what people want
They want me to parade around and give them kisses and bend to their wishes
But what does being “pretty” mean anyway?
It’s really not something to “be”
It’s an empty shell, its flirtatious and coy
Batting eyelashes and saying sweet nothings
It’s not messy, emotional, and clumsy
Pretty isn’t complicated
It’s putting on red lipstick and moving on
And the more I try to be pretty the more it hurts
Because I’m not pretty
I’m so much more than that
I can never be good enough for someone
Who only sees me for my face
Because I’m more than my mascara laden eyes
And my lip gloss smeared mouth
If you look at me like someone you want to kiss
Then I would move on because you’ll be disappointed
You’ll be disappointed because I’m intelligent and witty
Because I work words into sculptures and rope them around
Like a wild rodeo woman and I say things that’ll stop
You in your tracks and if you want simple and easy

Then please move on because you don’t deserve me

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