The mask of the mirror

 A mirror is the enemy of pretty. Back in the day it was a great invention that let you see your face. I almost wish we didn't have them. The more I look;the more don't like about myself. Vain or skewed we look at ourselves. It is how we think we look vs. How we look. It is mainly this idea that we do not really look like a stereotypical person in our culture. I really believe that plays a role in our insecurities. Makeup and procedures add a perfect element. People are never perfect humans. Since when does perfection equal unattainable. Celebrities make us all feel that way. The more money spent must mean a great Secret. Secrets of the flawless- that one person that you follow just to emulate them. I very much dislike that aspect of beauty. Every little thing they wear is criticized. I am glad our image is controlled by us and not posted to google 20 times over.
   Our image is uniquely ours. No money or time can change your beautiful. Filters,makeup,lighting all add up to mask. The mask of being a woman. Too much expectations that keep changing. The standards of beauty can be found in a tangible list. I am realizing that you have to do these things to be pretty. Never in history has women been more diverse get the same. I feel like they forget that we can pick and choose from the list. It is hard to list everything here. My list includes a nice body lotion,face mask,lip balm,and body spray. What gets to me is that in order to be pretty; you have to be feminine. A person who breathes in rainbows and exhales butterflies. I very much say that our gender should not matter 75% of the time. Packaging and scents should not be seperated by gender.

The mask of the mirror

each dresser comes with a mirror
a place for self reflection
is my hair looking good?
who am I today;everyday
a face glowing with a smile or
tears inside our image
trapped inside a kaleidoscope
slowly spinning out dazed
for how I look undefined by society

it is not written in stone
woman are seen through telescopes
am I who you expected to see?
why do I today;criticize my flaws
only seeing a fallen asteroid
interrupted by passing observer
a marvel hard to miss
they exclaim:but it is not round

through its narrow lens she looks
wanting something more perfect
the sky with endless depth
stars inside my glass universe
controlled by a switch on and off
we choose to show or hibernate
I am in a cave of brass artifacts
searching for gold

a world of abundance is feared
how many steps to courage
we paint our light from dark
till my stars glow beyond that lens

females are seen through store shelves
pink and roses are not universal
eyebrow pencils and self tanner;
clutter up the skies

where does God get purchased?
he's always sitting on the moon
I only see him without clouds
can I buy some of his love
maybe it will define who I am
being born a women;expectations
God holds them for ransom
shown the opposite,
right before society

my mirror traps whats to come
he teaches women to be kind, strong
learning to see happiness in people
doing more than our size dictates
not letting our gender become our mask
our reflections wiped clean turning
into shadows traveling the world