A table for my vanity, full of unnatural products

To create the natural look.

People look with wonder and righteousness

To then tell me I’m vain

When I’ve grown up in a world that has only taught

Me how to be self-obsessed.

They tell me I would be prettier without all the make up

Yet the word beautiful

Has only been uttered to my Mac lined face.

The me who’s liked.

I’ve poked my eyes, I’ve poked my soul, heart and mind

And kohl black bleeds out.

They’ve caught staring at the mirror again, at the mirror

Never my face.

As I’m imagining violent release and smashed glass

Fragmented beauty

With no perfect lines or curves, as I could never be like that.

False images

So frequently displayed people begin to think they’re real.

Sometimes, even me.


4 thoughts on “Visage

  1. Here’s to the ladies who society has punished. May the men who love you, love you, and not the mirror. I love how you encapsulated the issue with self experience!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. you are not your body, beauty goes far deeper, idk if your spiritual at all, but bodies will always wither away, but the beauty of the soul transcends, at least that’s part of my beliefs…


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