A perfectly poised hand raises a brush with powder dusting its tip, to her face;
Quickly and deftly, she draws it across her face,
Like a painter working on her masterpiece.
Once, she raises her head to examine herself only seeing the blemishes and imperfection.
Her eyebrows are slightly out of form forming wrinkles when she moves them up,
Her eyes don’t stand out yet they hide a world of hurt,
Her nose is too big, and not dainty enough for the ugly eyes of society,
And her lips not perfectly drawn to the boldest and fullest;
Never once has she wondered who she truly is;
A voice calls from down the stairs;
Hurriedly she outlines her too small eyes in black eyeliner,
And turns her back on that mirror
Her reflection shattering into a million pieces,
And so she leaves for that party with the too perfect people
At the too expensive house;
Never looking back;
Her sleek stiletto heels clicking endlessly;

Echoing in her mind.

A life that society has given her.