Do I Look Pretty? | Teen Ink

Do I Look Pretty?

April 6, 2017
By Anonymous

I bought this dress for you.
It's a little worn out and you can see exactly where I added a couple inches cuz the girl before me thought it was a good idea to eat pizza for six nights a week. Extra cheese.
I'll be honest with you I'm a little nervous.
I just spent like half an hour staring at my reflection, painting layer after layer until I no longer recognize the girl in front of me.
If I squinted I could kind of make her out but behind the lies that covered her eyes, and the smile she used to tape her mouth shut, 
Who could even tell there was an honest girl underneath? 
But she looked like those girls on the magazine.
You know, The ones every girl wants to be.
The ones who make you feel bad for being 5'3.
So I guess she was good.
A creation to be proud of.
And like Frankenstein's monster
She stood tall and alive,
And she thought that her appearance finally matched the beauty she felt inside.
But the look on your face as I walked through the door told me that I might have added a little too much blush,
Did you know I'm just bashful, that's why I'm so red,
Though you'd never really be able to tell behind all the lies that I've said.
I just build walls,
To keep you out and my quirks in,
And stand on cardboard boxes until I'm taller than my insecurities can reach.
This is all show. And you have a front seat.
I've been working on my magic, do you want to see?
I can make my myself disappear in as easy as 1, 2, 3 Steps

On scale,
I'm watching the number praying it's enough to tie a big blue ribbon around with a sign saying I won first place,
In a race against myself.
Because these numbers get up and walk on their own,
And they sleep under the sheets with me every night,
Hugged warmly, snuggled tight.
But This dress is too tight. I'm losing my breath.
But I haven't felt this much since my innocence's death,
You see I use to think that reading chapter books could make you pretty,
And that the freckles on my back were like stars you'd connect on a clear blue night sky,
But now beauty can no longer be found in the eyes,
And the beholder offers me catalogs of interchangeable parts,
It's all cut and paste,
Sissors and glue replace curiosity and dreams too,
A pinch here, a poke here, some silk stitches now adorn my whole body,
I'm a woman who can stand up right on her own now thanks to a new spine made out of insecurities and fear.
I use to think a smile could cut it,
I use to think report cards could cut it,
But nothing can cut deeper than the blade of a knife,
And nothing is softer than the silicon plush I stuff my teddy with when I hold him at night,
Because the darkness is the only time I can hide in my castle,
And pretend that my big bones and big brain are enough.
naivety was the death of me,

I'm sorry, I forgot that big lips aren't used for talking.
They're just ornaments you can stare at and claim like the star on the top of a Christmas tree.
My eyes are up here,
But your eyes have only been down here,
And I can't help but laugh knowing you've mostly been staring at wads of tissue paper,
Where I've wrapped up my heart and slapped on a bow,
Hoping this would be a better gift than anything that can be sold.
But I'm afraid you'll just take it and tear it apart,
Let it fall down,
The pieces crying as they hit the ground hard,
And my teardrops could never be stronger than glue,
But maybe they would dry without you.

But I'm getting ahead of myself,
Am I'm losing my mind?
You're looking at me as if you know what's inside.
You've never met madness like I have so how could you possible know,
He's an old friend of mine and we become more acquainted as I grow old,
He gives me pretty petite pills
And promised the possibility of a pretty petite girl looking back one day when I look in the mirror.
And I wait for that day as much as I wait for the next,
For a day when I could put my finger back in my mouth,
And block letters will spell out the word "beautiful",
Where a drawing outside the line is not a mistake you can pay to fix,
And where the gap between my teeth is the first thing you see when you tell me I'm pretty.
But most importantly, I wait for day where I could ever possibly believe that was true.



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