On Beauty [poem]

I am sick of plasticine smile princesses
who do not sweat but rather exude sweet-sweet fragrance
through every pore.

I am bored to death with beauty queens
who cannot find their home country on a map
even if it was color-coded and written in big letters.

I am exhausted by the vapid conversations of pretty girls
who think their worth lies in mascara winks
and lipstick promises.

Give me beauty that is three-dimensional;
I’d rather be drawn to something original
than bemused by one thousand girls who all look the same.

Give me beauty that has a sense of humor;
I’d rather speak to someone I can laugh with
than someone whose only subject is themselves.

Give me beauty that has teeth,
Give me beauty that has wit and grit
and isn’t afraid to show its laugh lines

I want the beauty that is flawed and broken,
I want the beauty that has a story to tell,
I want the beauty that doesn’t ask to be imitated,
but demands instead to be respected and, above all, heard.

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