to tell you the truth
i never did like my hair
always coarse and ruffled
looking nothing like the women you see on screens
and those circles, around the corners of my eyes
i bet you'd wonder; i haven't been sleeping for years
seems like that three hundred dollars worth
of magic cream was no help after all


don't get me started about my lips,
stale as the Mediteranean deserts
infinitely parched and desiccated
thriving for moisture amidst the painful cracks
burns when i smile sometimes
apparently wearing masks as a shield from the work i do; saving lives
butchers the upper and lower edges of my own mouth
how pitiful


oh; did i mention anything
about how i loathe the awful stretch marks...