I am not
an airbrushed cover girl
posed and poised
tousled just right
lipstick smudged
spritzed with water
to go for the glow
on skin stretched over bones
so tight the girl looks weak
or like a freak of nature
with too large breasts and two full lips
pouting in mock depression
or some come-hither look
that goes nowhere
as feigned expression
and eyes void from exploitation
reveal no real soul
Nothing phony about me.
When I look sick or pout,
it’s not sexy.
I am more like the rainbow
found in an oil pool
a little red
a little blue
liquid and round
my beauty flows from within
and I succeed with smiles true
no need for miracle bras
designer clothes or skintight skin
though perfumed baths do soften mine
and I paint my toes in colors bright
just for fun to keep the package looking fine
I wear my heart on my sleeve
and say words real what I honestly feel
content and whole my soul’s
an open book for you to read.
I know what I’ve got and who I am not
and why I am so happy
inside and out
being me.