Made in America

Made in America

Perfection is like muscles stretched taught over bone
Covered with a transparent layer of sun kissed flesh
Tan skin sweeping over an aching machine
Tired and worn from seventeen years of performance
Sixteen years of heartache
Fifteen years of questions
Fourteen years of confidence
Thirteen years of awkward adolescence
Created on America’s assembly line
Beautiful blondes pieced together by worn Indian hands of underage workers
Angel’s wings dragging on the dirty floor of a toxic factory
Sweeping up combination skin and yellowed teethe
Vacuuming the discarded flaws of the broken hearted into a dumpster of unrealistic expectations
New shipments of billboard bodies in trucks advertisement covered trucks
Pouting lips
Dainty waists
Wide eyed stupidity to cover the pages of magazines and set standards you will never reach
Thin wrists draped with silver charm bracelets
Pretty poets evaporating into sunny skies in a world where the truth
Is airbrushed
And beauty
Is manufactured

pearly white teethe fantasies

Walking my puppy down windy easter streets lined with victorian houses and I'm beggining to love this new life. Waving goodbye to my charmed days of credit cards and lean cuisine meals was hard but now i have someone to talk to on the phone until three in the morning while candles burn and shadows of skinny deer walk past my bedroom window. Now i have michael buble songs eating me alive and a puppy im falling for with each passing day. I have best friends to drive with and a beautiful faith to mold with glitter covored hands. I have job applications and dreams of pearly white teethe. I have hope to cling to on this cold Sunday afternoon.

I have been snapping pictures like a mad woman these past few days. Trying desperatly to capture all the beauty swirling around me but my finger doesnt work fast enough and the moments are slipping through my new digital camera. Blue eyed best friend dancing in the rain, blonde haired birthday girl wearing a crown with her hands on the wheel and her heart hungry for freedom, track running goddesses banging on a brown haired boys drum set and laughing. Tommorow I go back to school for the first time in a month and I can not wait to smell that dirty beautiful fucked up world called high school again.