I go to the mall all

Alone.

Scuffed up sneakers, old blue jeans. Headphones in.

This way, I’m like an eagle above the earth,

Observing the world from afar.

See the young couples holding hands.

Looking as if they’re will be forever

Together.

A middle-ages, balding man waiting

Outside the store for his woman, reading his well-worn,

Paperback thriller.

That’s love. Devotion.

Nobody will do that for me.

I watch

Teenagers calling eachother m**********

As a sign of friendship.

Teenage boy with a snackback on, pants sagging

Down to his knees texts his girl

(she’s getting ready for their date, flatironing

Her already straight hair, putting makeup on her already pretty

Face, anything for him)

Saying he’s studying for the history exam,

(he’ll pick her up at seven)

wraps his arm around the school s***,

putting his hand up her shirt that’s revealing her D cups.

What’s wrong with society?

When did it become acceptable

To wear torn jeans so low

And patterned skirts so high?

Why is it ok that a simple tube of black mascara costs

Fifteen bucks?

That those bright red signs announcing SALE are lying?

Vanity. Vanity. Vanity.

That you idolize every skinny, toned model

on those Ralph Lauren advertisements? Dream

Of being them?

Those models wouldn’t even dream of eating

the pretzels found on every floor,

with their tantalizing smell,

yet you don’t see this.

Society only sees the perfection.

Why?

Why is it you only feel good when our manicured

And lotioned hands

Gives your dad’s plastic credit card to cashiers

(working at minimum wage)

For some red heels you don’t need?

Prada has become a god..

Why are florescent lights spotlights

Pointing out every flaw?

And changing room mirrors tear down confidence

Until you’re just ready to cry?

Why do you do this to yourselves?

You have marks in your arms from all the bags weighted

Down with dresses and tanktops that never needed to be bought.

Why is it makeup takes up so much space,

Miles and miles

Browse through red lipstick and blue eyeshadow

Miles and miles of war paint bought

For the war against the mirror…

Yet… you never seem to win…