Eyeliner

When my mother first gave me black eyeliner
It had glitter encased within
don't make yourself look like a whore
I was told with all the sincerity one could muster on Christmas morn
I wonder if I have lived up to her expectation
With smoky eyes and cat tails
Does she see me as who I am trying too hard to be? Who I am emulating? Or as the Girl I'm trying to remain? A daughter faithful and lost.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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