And I saw you,
Without paint, without the mask,
And saw how tired you were,
How aged, how pale the skin you never let see sunlight,
How thin the lashes, how your youth
Was twisted by your crude daubings
To something new and strange.
A simple poem, following a simple incident where a person I have known since I was a very young child saw me for the first time in many years when they were not wearing make-up. It was strange, and yet stranger that it was strange to see their skin. Please, if you wish to share your thoughts on the demands of society that people wear make-up, try and keep them both civil and feminist. (I’m an open minded person, of course! But I do love the power this website gives me over comments).
The Hapless Neo-Romantic