Beauty~Maggie murray
The taste of lipstick
The smell of perfume
Do you see the makeup
Hear the cries of people who aren’t already
Feel the skin of those who waited
Just to be told that they will never be
Those words, clouding up the mirrors of many
Making it impossible to see what we have
and possible to try and make up for what we don’t
But we can’t
All of what we thought we have or know we don’t have
is hung high above our heads
by the ones who were, already
Already knowing
or, thinking
that if you wear the makeup
taste the lipstick
or smell the perfume
it will somehow grant you with an unclouded mirror
In all reality it’s just clouding your head
as we, the unthinkable, the blind, the ones who waited
just wait, to be called beautiful....
When we are young, we’re brought up thinking erasers get rid of mistakes
They don’t
people scrub at their skin trying to blend the colors of hate and not good enough
but we can’t
the words covering our bodies, written in pens and sharpie markers
when we don’t think we are enough
we look at the words written in glitter and painted on our hearts
and we know that we are our own definition of beauty
though it takes so long for us to figure it out
we will
because we can
and because someone out there has to love us, for who we are
Random sad poem~ MAGGIE
Yes I have a life,
so I am busy too
so I have a life
but I want it less than you
you have a life
and quite frankly it's fine
although you are more mean
and like to ruin mine
sure I have a heart
but the beats want to slow down
cuz every word you say makes me want to lose a pound
not in weight
but the pounding of my heart
I don't know what is wrong
but it's been there from the start
and the more words you say
the worse that I shall feel
I'm reeling from the pain
if reeling even felt real
it's crashing in
the waves on me
I wish that I could drown
your holding me to a high rope
but I've never let you down.
Ana poem~
When we were kids
We were afraid of skeletons
Now all we want to do
Is see our bones
Have our skin be transparent
And paper thin
Like the blades we used to cut our skin
Like the words that always find their way in
Fat.
Ugly.
Might as well die
Never fill ourselves up
With more than portions of a tear from a cry
So small
So hungry
But emptiness never seemed so inviting
Appetizing.
Disguising the way we hate ourselves
With ever small bite
Our lives, are a fight...
