When morning first comes
and the alarm rings,
I know it simply won't wake.
It will be an hour of
snoozing and curling up cozy
before the noise will take.
When I pick out my clothes
and try them all on,
I know I'll hate how they fit.
It will be combos of shirts
and jeans and skirts.
Somedays, I just want to quit.
When I put on my makeup
and think it looks nice,
by noon, I'll see all its flaws.
It'll run. It'll fade
and I'll look like a whore.
I'll doubt what beauty I saw.
When the day ends
and I'm heading home,
I'll be happy to wash it away.
I'll wonder and I'll worry
that everyone could see
how imperfect I felt all day.
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