Beauty -Lauren Moriarty

As a child I would sit cross legged
On my parents bed.
I would watch, fascinated,
As mum got ready for a night out
With dad.
She hummed softly to herself
As he showered.
I listened to the soundtrack
Of comfort and familiarity.
Mums make-up bag lay strewn
Across rumpled covers,
I would take out each product
And hold it in my small hand
Rub the soft brushes against my skin,
Trace the lipstick around my mouth,
Thinking to myself
This is what makes beauty

I placed make-up on
A pedestal.
In my opinion,
It was the only thing that could
Create beauty.
Growing older,
This belief only intensified.

As a teenager I would sit cross legged
In front of the mirror
Practicing the skill of creating
Beauty.
The music this time
Was composed of insecurities,
Another soundtrack that had become
Familiar.
I learned how to contour,
How to make my lips fuller,
My eyes pop.
But Yes, I liked wearing it,
It gave me more confidence
Turned down the music,
But I wasn’t beautiful.
something was wrong
I didn’t look, I didn’t feel
Beautiful.

Over time,
I learned that beauty
Doesn’t come wrapped in
Mac or L’Oreal.
It is an ideal
Of an individual mind.
It is an aspiration not
An achievement.

As an adult I sit cross legged
As I read and write poetry
I have learned that there is
Many types of beauty.
It can be found in words,
Rhythms and patterns.
Beauty is an art not a person,
Beauty is this poem,
Not me.

***
Hi Friends! So this was written by the lovely Lauren Moriarty and I begged her to let me post it here! Sadly, she has no blog of her own. . . yet. . .I’m still working on it 😉 
So I hope you all enjoy her art as much as I do!