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pretty
by Angela Thomasat least once a day someone tells me that i look
like Jessica Biel. (and, believe me, this is some kinda
compliment.) i never know quite how to react when
it happens - i should be used to it now. usually,
i'll laugh and give them a slightly worn, often
used smile to let them know, its-okay-i-get-this-
all-the-time-and-boy-is-it-getting-old. i bought
a magazine about a month ago and held it up
to the mirror, right next to my face, looked at her
and examined. i guess we have similar bone structure,
maybe the big smile and the white teeth... my mind
lands on a memory, old with dusk, musky with time
and insecurities in the facts, six years ago when
a man that looked like a grecian god sat me down
and told me that i wasn't pretty. that i was actually
rather unattractive. he explained his reasoning even,
i was fat, i was ordinary, i was style-less. i was a rat.
its strange still to hear myself compared to this women,
this woman who graces the top ten most beautiful
people in the world. deep down under everything,
all the flesh, the muscles, the bones, the marrow,
i sigh. am i still that rodent? am i just okay enough
to get by without being called ugly - but not quite
beautiful enough to warrant pretty? a whole poem
devoted to looks, a whole lifetime hinging on the
answer. i toss, i turn, i obsess, i cry, i act foolish,
i concede, i harbor, i silence, i burn, i burn inside. 05/25/2007 Author's Note: its no literary work of genius, but i had to get it out.
Posted on 05/25/2007
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
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