To Be Naked

What does it mean to be brave in a world so plastic?
Where smiles stretch tight, too stiff to be elastic
It seems I am the only girl with lips this pale and paper-thin,
Afraid of judgment, I chase the Botox trend.

Color my lips as red as cherries,
Finish with a gloss that smells like berries.
Apply concealer beneath my eyes
And hide behind a cosmetic disguise.

I have pores and textured skin,
Dimples like caves when I grin.
I should contour, sculpt, erase—
Put shadows and highlights in their place.

My brows grow thick, wild, and untamed;
Anything natural will be shamed.
Magnetic lashes veil my eyes,
My beauty lost behind the lies.

Post filtered pictures for Instagram,
But I’m an imposter, and this is a scam.
I love my scars, my skin, my imperfections—
They’re what make me who I am,
Regardless of cultural expectations.

So what does it mean to be brave?
To show the world my unfiltered face.
To be vulnerable, to be free,
To be naked, to be me.