Paintjob Flops

Photo by author.

The gentlest man I know once slapped

me verbally- it still stings.

Old fashioned values dictate dressing up

for him as a good thing- getting dolled up ideal.

A friend once told me I would be his trophy girl

if indeed I ever landed the man 12 years my senior.

Women are too often criticized for their looks-

we attempt to measure up to a standard

set by societies view of the perfect woman

forced down our throats by pop culture.

That morning- I put on makeup

instead of going the usual natural.

He asked me if it was for him

Semi-affirmative: I do this for me first.

He called it a paint job

implying I’d be better without it.

The sting was immediate-taking me

back to 17 year old me with Tom:

the insults, the jabs, being a constant joke.

It was the first time I’ve associated the two

compared the natures- nothing alike

thoughts taking me far from his meaning-

I love you, perfectly imperfect.