Style

Clapping sounds in the background

As I put my concealer on

The blush will turn me into a cute one

Yet the lips are tricky

Too easy to categorize

Thus must be careful

Not too red

Not too big

Nor small

Nude tones maybe

But glossy

Clean girl

Messy girl

Downtown girl

Goth girl

Gyaru?

Coquette?

Hippie?

Old money, y2k,

Dark academia, light academia?

What are the chances they are all the same?

Oh no I’m just a girl

And I wear vintage

Type A,B,C girl, then?

Haven’t you heard tho

The type D girl?

What about no make up?

Not the no-make-up make up.

But no make up.

Then the claps turns into boo’s

And I can’t seem to choose

Whether the comfort of claps

Or freedom of boo’s

Makes me feel normal.

Not happier,

Because beauty is pain,

Mom told once.

Beauty is terror

Beauty, oh beauty,

Never happiness

Though the adds wouldn’t agree

And the influencers, when

The skincare masks

Turns into real ones

As the times flies,

As one video,

Becomes another one

And I, as I,

Become someone else