Every night before I lay my head to rest, I observe my face in all it’s raw glory

From my shiny forehead to the dull hairs on my chin, every feature is picked at for flaws to discard

But whether it’s larger pores on my cheeks, or darker hairs above my lip, a ballad rather than slander is what my raw face deserves 

Starting at said shiny forehead, I lift up my bangs to reveal an alpine landscape with dewey pink splotches.

This mountain is here to protect my gigantic brain and the splotches are just for the artistic touch

So called beauty experts would bring concern to why at only 18 my hairline is so high up

But trust me, it isn’t receding, it’s the knowledge, rhymes, and lessons being stored in this headspace 

A couple miles down are the brows, that perk and scrunch when something gets on my nerves

Some would say they are overgrown I would say they’re just biodiverse

The stray hairs and faint unibrow bring character to my garden

And leave gurus in such shock, they need to be carried off in a hearse

Two steps down are the eyes that show off my vulnerability 

Where rivers flow out every three to five business days

Experts say too much crying makes your eyes puffy

But who’s watching me shed tears thinking “ this bitch is ugly!”

These eyes are elders, left eye needing a crutch to work out

But with right eye support both see the bullshit experts spew about

Down the road is the nose, busy with blackheads and jewelry

Septum ring so big to the beauty world, it makes me a liability

Yes I can breathe correctly, and the point is to look like a bull

my vision of beauty will never be clutter free and dull

The neighbors to the nose are the cheeks

The cheeks that are supposed to be shrunk down fat free

But if my cheeks were fat free there would be no space for kisses 

to be smothered by my misses and my mother

Where we set ship, is the lips and chin, where complaints are deeply set in

Beauty doesn’t want my chin to have extra blubber or my lips to boldly blabber

But beauty isn’t silent, or exclusively thin

True beauty is what you craft from the within

True beauty is confidence you project outside

True beauty is free from judgemental minds 

I love my flaws because they were crafted for me, and I won’t let beauty experts craft me to blur their insecurities 

I strive to have fat, a loud mouth, and odd makeup taste

And I am honored to make shit awkward with my ugly ass face

So while I craft up this face and place it on a silver platter

When you pick up your fork, take a bite and savor

While you chew and swallow what I crafted in the kitchen

Tell me beauty experts, how the fuck does my raw face taste?