The Disguise

BY JULIE CHEN

The sun prances across the wooden floor,

Patterns of gold are cast upon the door.

Blankets are rustling. Hear the alarm clock go off.

There’s a thump on the table; the ringing stops.

Arms extend to reach for a mirror nearby,

Fingers trace the bags under hazel eyes.

Leftover eyeliner stains pillowcase. There’re sheets

Crumpled and piled where her two feet meet.

Lope to the bathroom, water washes away

Debris—stale remains of make-up from yesterday.

But no, how in this world could she tolerate

This natural, naked, unfamiliar face?

With this worn-out brush and greasy foundation,

Free this girl from worries; pure salvation.

Rub glitter and shadow over tired eyes;

No one gets to see the tears that she cries.

Take lipstick and gloss. Proceed to thickly smear

It across upturned lips: her heart’s frontier.

Bronzer carves cheeks and fancy exterior disguise—

On the inside, she searches for corners to hide.

Done. She’s finished painting the ideal facemask

To protect her from truth, reality and facts.

What facts? You ask, but her lips are tightly sealed

For life’s unfair treatment makes courage keel.

How much more concealer can her soul take?

Wait. Stop, stop, stop. This is all a mistake.

Tomorrow morning, just after she wakes up,

Tell her she’s beautiful. She doesn’t need make-up.