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Not So Perfect Type of Perfect


Not So Perfect Type of Perfect

They say be this.

They say be that.

They say to jump,

and I say 'how high?'

Staring at myself in the mirror studying the curvature of my sharp jaw and the bump on my broken nose (feeling insecure). Squeezing my pores to become less dirty and more perfect. Putting product in my hair to eliminate the frizz. Swiping my tinted chapstick over my cracked, dry lips. Delicately picking up my eyeshadow brush and painting on a dark bronze over my lids lightly, placing a line of highlighter down the center of my lid to add a shine. Plucking my eyebrows into perfection. Studying my face with the new found shell of beauty on my eyes. Carefully, I apply my waterproof mascara, you never know when you're going to burst out into tears that day, it's a necessary weapon of self protection. Dabbing concealer over my imperfect skin.

This is me.

This is not who I am.

Don't let the paint fuck with your beauty.

Looking into the mirror again, I take my hand and smear the makeup angry with how it's not always me, but a version of me. One that I sometimes despise. It makes me act differently. I'm more humble without the shit.

Walking out of the house I go. Confidently.


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