Our Impressionable Eyes
To Natalie:
Cheeks that outweigh the rest of my face,
are my defining feature.
To Thomas:
Bright but heavy hazel eyes,
are my defining feature.
To Jacquii:
Million dollar lips that could wear any shade,
are my defining feature.
Defined by my features.
If I try too much...if I don’t try enough...if I don’t try at all...
Defined by my choices.
First impressions are so powerful.
Imprisoned in a labeled box,
by different people
who always see me
in different ways.
To each of them,
I am something else.
Yet I feel like nothing more than just an exterior.
In seconds,
they handpick
my physical qualities, sort them out,
and as if I were a puzzle,
put me back together
to see the image
they have decided for me.
There is not a single thing we look for,
but deep in the pit of our minds we know
the assumptions
are already prepackaged.
Defined by how hard I try
to make myself look
...feel...?
more appealing.
We are left to fend for ourselves
but we wither away
in the same hole as everyone else.
Each of us sees the easy resolution:
don’t judge, don’t let features define.
But those same daggers
that were used to cut out of all the judgement,
dare to come back at night and stab us in the back,
because social nature
has already been established.
I do it. You do it. We all do it.
My features make you decide who I am
before you ever really see me.
I am so much more than just a nose.
I am so much more than just a size.
I am so much more than just a pair of eyes.
I am so much more than just what you see.
Please,
please don’t let my defining feature
be what keeps you
from knowing me.
Don’t let your impressionable eyes
kill away any other possibility
of what I could be.


