welcome to the hollow cake
buttered by cream frosting
its no fun being the rat in wax
is it?

was the garnish good, at least?

we're here only moments
and they're being wasted every minute
just like all the opportunities
that have gone on by

there's still plenty game to be had
a plentiful lot in play
pennies for each of their fads
hair changes, and ripped stockings
handmade

but when the dye fades
your mascara runs
was it fun?

Sometimes,
when the face in the mirror isn't who I want it to be

and those thoughts,
those ******* disgusting worms crawling out of my brain,
to simply drive me insane

I think it's subconscious,
I never quite think it,
before the thought is reaching my hand

A little mascara
brush through my hair

(I want to feel pretty
again)

A dusting of powder
touch up my chapstick

(this face
THIS FACE ISN'T RIGHT
THIS ISN'T THE PERSON I WANT  TO BE-)

-
It's ok to be.
-

Switch up the perspective:


I Will fix my issues,
one brush at a time

A swipe of lipstick
layer eyeshadow

Please don't clump, mascara
Add some concealer

(I NEED TO FIX
THE VOICES IN MY HEAD)

Some brow gel
Some eyeliner.

Top it off
With a



[[I hear voices say,
voices far away
"say cheese!" click]]


I-
I'll be O.K.

we use mascara to
mask our madness,
and concealer to
cover our faults.

we refuse to leave
the house until we’ve
done our makeup.

we forget our wallets
on the kitchen counter.
sometimes, we have to
drive all the way back home
just to pick them up.

we forget to say goodbye
to our families as we
rush out the door to
get to work on time.

we forget car keys,
glasses, cell phones,
pocketbooks.

we forget everything
that we know we
need to remember.

but we never forget
to put on our makeup.

we never forget the idea that
our values are almost always
determined by some man’s
perception of beauty,

and that our brains
mean nothing if we
can’t share our thoughts,

and that we can’t share
our thoughts if we
don’t look pretty enough
to draw attention.

we never forget that we are
ignored by our bosses and
criticized by our coworkers,
until our beauty is noticed.

we never forget that our
bodies receive more attention
than our voices ever have.

we forget to prepare
our presentations,

but we never forget
to prepare our bodies
for an entire day
of being judged.

I feel
less volatile
less awake.
I've been biting my lip
livid.
Wearing my own blood as lipstick,
tears as mascara.
Whilst solidarity whispers dark words into my ears.
Meanwhile,
the crowds
they tell tales
of how pretty
I look.