I saw her at Vans Warped Tour,
Her face so beautiful and breathtaking, her eyes the color of aqua.
I’d compare them to the ocean, but that’d be cliché.
Her hair was lavender, her nails long and painted magenta.

It was her beauty that caught my eye, like it demanded my attention.
She didn’t seem bothered by the frustrating heat.
Her long hair cascaded down her back,
Her make up so perfect and pristine.

I caught my own reflection at a vender’s booth.
My skin, turning a pinkish color from the sun and heat.
My make up, once flawless, now smudged under my eyes.
My dark brown hair, as long as hers, now thrown into a ponytail.
My arms covered in body paint and temporary tattoos from donating to important causes.

Her beauty made me feel somewhat insecure and out of place.
I looked around the other dirty and filthy kids who enjoyed themselves.
I’m not the one who’s out of place. She is.
This is Warped Tour; no one cares how you look at the end of the day.