For The Girls Who Try Poem by Kylee Camille Kylee Camille

For the Girls Who Try
Every morning starts the same—
Mirror, brushes, heat, and flame.
A thousand strokes, a hundred moves,
To smooth the parts we're told to prove.
Foundation hides the sleepless nights,
Mascara lifts the quiet fights.
Liner sharp as armor worn,
Lips red like roses, bold, reborn.
Hair curled high or straightened flat,
Sprayed and pinned beneath a hat.
Brows shaped sharp, each lash in place,
A mask of calm on every face.
We wake up early, just to chase
A standard built on shallow grace.
For compliments that never come,
From people cold, indifferent, numb.
We walk through crowds, our effort loud
In shimmer, gloss, and clouds of proud—
But not a word, not even glances
To match the hours, the silent dances.
And still we do it, day by day,
In every shade and every way.
Not always for the world to see,
But for control, for dignity.
Because it's hard, and still we show
A kind of strength they'll never know.
So if you see her—pausing there,
Lips just set, and perfect hair—
Tell her something kind and true,
She's done far more than just 'look cute.'
And maybe next time, she'll feel seen—
Not just a canvas, but a queen.