Her eyes find mine through the magazine,
Telling me how I should change,
The words on the page melt into hot wax,
And pour into a mold of what I should be,
The face I should have and the flawless body I need.

Her eyes find mine through the magazine,
Shaking her head as she applies mascara,
I cover my face with my hands in shame,
Wondering why I don’t look like her,
That face I should have and the flawless body I need.

Her eyes find mine through the magazine,
Her compliments turn to criticism,
My smile is pure and hers is red and masked,
While she stares into my eyes and stays there,
That face I should have and the flawless body I need.

Her eyes find mine through the magazine,
Telling me how I should change,
The words on the page melt into hot wax,
And pour into a mold of what I should be,
The face I should have and the flawless body I need.

I shut the magazine and walked away.
I may not be flawless but I am already perfect.