When they ask me why I shaved my head

 

I say “because I was tired of my hair”

 

I was tired from the experiences curled up in each lock.

 

Seven months later I had stories to add

 

So I lightened the dark pain with a lighter brown shade.

 

The silver hoop in my nose contributes to the edge

 

But my mom’s disapproving words about it almost pushed me over the ledge.

 

When I was younger the picture I painted of my future self was picture perfect

 

But sometimes when I look in the mirror I think “was all that work in my imagination worth it?”

 

My midsection measures a few more inches than I would like and my voice didn’t get any higher 

pitched as I transitioned into womanhood

 

But the men like their women’s bodies soft and think deep voices are sexy.

 

 I was his idea of a perfect woman but after I gave it up he couldn’t even text me.

 

And he keeps saying I’m so cute but where does cute get me when he has a woman at home?

 

The way I’m treated sometimes I feel like this world is lawless

 

And when I cover my face with liquid skin is the only time I’m considered flawless. 

 

That’s why I try to stay modest

 

Because I present myself as this honest, superstar beauty.

 

Like Aaliyah whom I aspire to be

 

But I know I’m not as kind.

 

The closest I’ll ever come to her perfection is to give off a false flawless vibe. 

 

If beauty is how we measure perfection then there’s no such thing

 

Every flaw that makes us ugly makes us pretty all the same.