Beautiful

Who seeks the soul of a beautiful girl
Does the beautiful boy even have a soul
Or, do they lose it to the Beautiful
With Its strict, perfectionistic demands
That She should not age
Nor have flesh at the thighs for lovers to grip
Nor thin lips
Nor large hips
That He — can’t possibly be kind or warm
Because he’s Expected, practically directed
With that straight nose and carved jaw to simply stand there
With that strangely prized apathetic look of The Modeling World
Beautiful men reduced to the thing in their J Brand jeans
Beautiful women reduced to caricatures in magazines
Blank slates for other women to draw inaccurate conclusions about
Oh, the perks of Beauty –
Mistrust, betrayal, jealousy
Competition, oh yes dear, and
Fear
For the Beautiful person can only hold on for so long
Until they close up, shrivel
From a lack of Being Seen
Beautiful — Put On them at birth
Or created from low self-worth
Like that monogramed bag everyone has
Cuz it tells us what we’re worth
So when He and She turn hardened
We say “The Beautiful are mean”
But Beauty’s just a little fire…
Who holds the gasoline?

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