I am powerful.
Not someone on the side of the street commanding I be more like that girl.
Sitting on a pedestal she is prim and proper.
The epitome of society with her size 2 dress, long blonde hair and alabaster skin.
She is beauty in the eyes of the societal beast.
Forced to live under a veil of tortuous perception of aesthetic beauty, I am compared to her.
But I am the powerful one.
I condone myself to my own standards.
No one else’s but mine.
I am famished and hunger for change.
A change in which beauty from within is stronger than that girl and the beast.