Flesh
What is pretty?
Is it platinum blonde like sunlight and
Baby blue eyes like sapphires?
Is pretty so skinny your bones pierce your flesh
In a dead and grotesque fashion?
Is pretty lingerie drawn tight around your body
Showing all
Clothes that expose every crevice
And curve for another's amusement?
Another's approval?
Is pretty some dull-eyed barely-clothed girl
Gyrating against a pole in some meaningless
Attempt to feel something as groups of unfeeling
Lust-fueled men eye-rape her and shout things
For their own amusement?
What about the girl who can't wear makeup
Because of the chemicals?
The girl who wakes up every day to her
Own reflection and begs the question....
Why can't I be beautiful?
The girl that weighs herself constantly
Dropping pounds like rain
Afraid to be "fat" but she barely eats....
The girl that sits alone in her room
And cuts herself
Full of self hatred
At her body.
Bleeding out and marring her own
Precious flesh....
Are they beautiful?
Are we beautiful?
Who gets to decide beauty?
And where does it come from?
Is it the naked reflection in the mirror
We gaze upon when no one else is around or
The soul within the broken vessel covered
In colors and poisons?
What are we?
Copyright © Jazmine Russell | Year Posted 2016
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