I packed away my dolls
barbies
Polly pockets
and Bratz
I look at their flawless faces
and remembered being promised that
I remember the boxes all implying
''play with me, you’ll learn to be beautiful one day''
and now I’m walking to the mirror to see what the truth has to say.
I remembered placing my fingers on my sides and trying to get the tips to touch
I remembered the pain that I went through to squeeze and squish it that much
I picked up a beautiful barbie
stick thin, hair flipped, skin caramel dipped
my mind was a daze with the lies, I remembered the impression
''you’re going to look like barbie, or be damned to lonely depression''
I looked in the mirror and compared, myself to the plastic plaything
my hair was red and wavy
her's was blonde and didn't look like an ocean tide
I look at her tiny waist line, granted i assumed it was to scale
yeah, I looked at her tiny waist line
And then I compared it to mine
I realized how different we were
me and this plastic doll
I realize that in real life
I could be this doll
I could die my hair blonde
I could throw up whatever i ate
I could buy products and kits
to make me pretty again
then I realized something funny
poor barbie
poor doll
everyone thinks she fun when they're playing with her
then they move on to newer things
then barbie gets old
and then she's not having much fun at all
I didn't want to be barbie
played with
then thrown away for newer versions of me
all I wanted to be
was
completely imperfect me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great write! Amazing where our minds can go when just doing mundane everyday chores! Did a wonderful job with this!