beauty is pain.
beauty is waking up after five hours of sleep every morning to smear some foundation on your skin and wipe some blush across your cheeks because you can't help but feel ashamed of the little red dots that have a tendency to crawl their way to the surface and litter your face with imperfections.
beauty is going to the salon every month to lay down on a lumpy chair and have hot wax spread on your forehead by an unfamiliar woman who looks at you as if you are a painting and she is your overly-critical artist, and she pulls the wax away and with a wince a very part of you is torn away.
beauty is red mixing with the water on the floor of the shower because you cut yourself while running a razor down your skin to get rid of yet another undesirable aspect of your body.
beauty is your throbbing finger that you run under cold water because that's the only thing that makes it feel better after you accidentally touch your curling wand while trying to make your hair look like the other girls - that's all you want; you just want to look like the other girls.
beauty is your aching bones that hurt to the point where it's hard to walk up the stairs, hard to raise your hand in class, hard to even stand up, and yet you force yourself to do it again; 10 more squats, 20 more sit-ups, a little working out never hurt anyone.
beauty is your grumbling stomach, the acid inside having nothing to decompose except yourself for days on end.
beauty is your falling gpa and your parents getting on to your every other night because you can't be both pretty and smart.
beauty is the tears the cascade down your cheeks when you're alone at night because you just can't do it all anymore, and is it even worth it, anyway?
beauty is not what it used to be.
