Just didn't make the cut.

Walking, slow and steady trying not to trip.
Trying to look perfect, make-up, hair-done, and wearing slimming clothes.
I've practiced this walk, it almost seems natural now.
Eyes forward, feet planted firmly on the ground, and a slight twist of the hips with each step.

Applying the makeup, that was, a tedious task.
grasping the eye-line pencil and applying carefully over my eye-lid, and under my eye.
Not to mention scraping it over the water-line.
Using goopy mascara, whipping it on to my eye-lashes, trying to make the illusion they are longer and more beautiful.
Outside appearance it's all that really matters to most people nowadays, its sad.

Taking the hair iron.
I burned myself.
Stroking my hair and watching the curls dissipate.
It makes my hair seem more beautiful, so then I should do it.

Looking in the mirror I see someone else.
Unfamiliar.
Someone that is beautiful, but is crying to be themselves.
You see that person in the mirror is me.

And you wanna know why I did this?
Hidden my true self?
All for you, to impress you, catch your eye.
But it isn't worth it. The pain of being someone else.

I guess for you, my true self, just doesn't make the cut.