Sees the ashy hair
Like hay in a barn
(Her mama always says)
Wonders if her bony knees
Look bad in shorts
Wishes for the legs
On the third girl from the left...
Who's stepping to the side
And sees her stomach isn't what it was
(What it never was, but she wishes it could be)
Her hips show signs of babies
Doughnuts, and genetics
Why do they put this mirror up
So she can see how fat she is
When next to all these skinny people
Just like little miss Hot Pink...
Who shimmies, with futility
Seeing women's breasts
Full and shaking all around her
While her own boyish ones
Practically non-existent
Don't move at all
Babies didn't help, either,
A brief reprieve from flat
Not like the rock star in the front row...
Who always dances in the foreground
Not to see herself
(God forbid!)
But because the Amazon women crowd her out
And she can't see the leader
The one with the perfect legs
The perfect tan
The perfect clothes
The perfect hair
Who's grateful not to face the mirror
So that she doesn't see
Her own imperfections.
Ain't that the truth.
ReplyDeleteI wish I didn't care what I look like. I want to be more than my appearance, but it still matters.
Yes it does.
Who wants plastic boobs and a skin-cancer color anyway?
ReplyDeleteIt does... I am glad I'm not a woman,
ReplyDeleteThere is great pressure to look "good" it’s got to be hard separating your self esteem from perception.
I wish you all the best.