Vesper

Location

I have heard it before,

how men do not notice eyebrows,

that they do not care for plump lips

weighed down  in red lipstick.

They say that china-glazed eyes

belonging to a dumb bunny

are not worthy of being praised.

 

And if you do not walk around

with a milky face

exposing your craters,

you are labeled plastic,

augmented, unnatural.

 

But I am not an art exhibit

asking to be dissected and discussed

by men in lavish suits.

I am Venus,

a light-bringer

who glides through the suns,

outshining their golden rays

and diamond-encrusted skin.

 

When gravity begins to pull on my cheeks

and age decides to stomp on me,

pouring dark spots over my exterior—

I will not be adequately pretty.

 

And when the smoothness of my surface

erupts into ridges and cracks,

I will proudly powder them up.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741