These Are Our Standards

Look in the mirror
Reach for your make up bag
We already can't see your face behind that mask of foundation of yours
We already can't tell what shape your eyes really are from the way you apply eyeliner.
Pump your mascara brush
Dab some powder on your nose where skin is starting to show.
Do you really believe what the magazines tell you about getting beautiful
Buy this, wear that, don't eat that
You'll be runway material in no time.
What do you really look like underneath it all?
Are you really that unhappy that you need to cover everything up
Show midriff
Allow your ass to hang out
Stuff your bra.
What are you doing to yourself
What do you really want the people around you to see?
I hope you're proud
Smile when you turn away from the mirror
You're like an artist
Manipulating raw material to something that isn't even realistic.
You don't even notice that your hair is fried
That even if you wash your face in the evening your pores are still caked
That the color of your eye brows don't match your hair
That the color of your neck clashes with your face.
This is when you suck in to hide your skin rolls because your shirt is too small
Yet you're being oh so stylish
You're mocking every girl that walks by because she's so pale
She doesn't find that need you do for a fake tan in the middle of winter.
Color your manicure
Pull out a compact to make sure your extensions aren't showing.
You're not even a real person anymore
The way you're hiding behind what's so obviously called "cover-up".
You're setting the standards so low
So far under
Deep into the shadows where liposuction and plastic lay.
Are you really proud of yourself?
Doesn't it hurt?
What do you look like under it all
Is it really that scary that no one is allowed to have any idea?
Do you really think that this is beauty?