“Go pretty yourself” they said.
They did not want to see my true colors.
They wanted me to be “picture perfect”.
“Go straighten your hair” they said.
They wanted me to comb and straighten
Out the pain hidden in my unruly curls.
“Go dab eye shadow” they said.
They wanted me to shatter my eyesight
Of the truth and lies of life.
“Go apply mascara” they said.
They wanted me to bat my eyes at boys,
But really, my mind was trapped by the one.
“Go wear tighter clothes” they said.
They wanted me to lay out all my secrets
That I hid in the bagginess of my clothes.
“Go add blush to your face” they said.”
They wanted me to seem lovesick
And hide the gauntness of my cheeks.
“Go wear a shorter dress” they said.
They wanted to embrace my youthfulness
Instead of basking in my old soul of regret.
“Go wear taller heels” they said.
They wanted me to be in the skies
When I truly belonged on the ground.
“Go put on concealer” they said.
They wanted me to hide my life in make-up
So that I would not scare any seeking beings away.
“Now you are picture perfect” they said.
We walked into a throng of people,
But I was already lost to the world.