Perfection.

 

What does that mean?

 

Silencing the fear?

Or disregarding our dream?

 

Fear you give

Towards me

Afraid to leave

How can that be?

 

I stand here,

Looking at my body…

 

Am I too fat?

Too skinny?

Do I have the

“Perfect image?”

 

Fractured are we

Because of what 

You made us to be.

 

I stand here,

Looking at my skin…

 

Am I light?

Am I dark?

Do I have the

Color of this land?

 

Forever alone are we

Because of you

Of all the things you said

And who you called me.

 

I stand here,

Looking at you…

 

The perfect body

The perfect skin

The perfect touch.

 

I realize,

Am I not like you?

 

You!

 

You push me down

As I begin to stand

You hold my smile

As I begin to laugh 

You silence me

As I begin to speak,

 

Is it because

I am not perfection?

 

Is my imagination 

Not creative?

 

Is the color of my skin

Does it not matter in this “free” land?

 

Is the language I speak 

None of yours?

 

Is my gender

Not equivalent to yours?

 

Beauty is perfection….

 

Beauty is……

 

Beauty…….

 

They! 

 

They do nothing!

 

We cry ourselves to sleep

Letting the demons come out at night

Telling us who we are because of you!

 

They do nothing!

 

They tell us to speak

We scream!

 

They tell us to act

We take action!

 

Instead,

They shut our doors

Make us sit down 

And not even speak a word.

 

Our fathers

Our mothers

Our brothers

Our sisters

Our friends

Our classmates

Our society….

 

Has been infected.

 

Beauty is a disease

Trying everything 

In our might

To be “perfection.”

 

Who is to blame:

 

Is it we

Is it you

Or is it them?

 

~C.M.F.G