I paint my eyes a pastel blue.
I add a nice shimmer, I show it to you.
The best compliment you could give is "It looks good I guess."
You have always said, natural is best.
Maybe I want pink lips with a glittery cheek.
Maybe I want to hide what is bland underneath.
One day I'll show you, what my style truly is.
One day you'll know how an angel really lives.
An angel doesn't fly or bless you with gifts, it lives in me, with shimmering lips.
I wear what I want.
I want something bright.
I need to stand out, stand out for this fight.
A fight against one or one-hundred men.
A fight against those who I must defend.
Defend my own choices and style I love.
My makeup is art, not some insecurity bluff.
I hate that it's still so looked down upon.
You want me pretty but don't want makeup on.
If I could just choose, where they'd love what I pick.
But up until now i've drawn the wrong stick.
You frown at my foundation like it's some fake amenity.
An evil force that hides my real identity.
But this is me, it's a part of who I am.
If you want authenticity then stop seeing this as a sham.
It's my personality and style all wrapped up in one.
If you really wanted me you'd let me have fun.
YOU ARE READING
Pitiful
Poetry"Never trust a scream, it lies with its fear, it's scared of the truth, it's scared for you to hear." A collection of poems made about me and to be read by you. Please enjoy. ⚠️Content warning⚠️: May contain triggering content.
