I kinda hate being pretty
the kind of pretty that makes
boys stare
not at my eyes or at my soul
but at my hips and below
I wonder if I have a face at all sometimes.
My lips must be there as they are greeted often
But simple things like fingertips, or the eyelashes
I spent 13 minutes perfecting,
Are often neglected
It must be because I’m skinny
That people find me attractive
Because it is never my words or my face
That they want to sleep with
I realize now I am no person
I am a product to consume,
A means to an end.
Someday I won’t have this body
What will I do then?
About the Creator
Joann Claude
“I'm not sure why
I have the inexplainable urge
To tell everyone I come in contact with
That I'm dying”
-a million thoughts all at once after a brief interaction with a customer at work
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