A girl dressed in pink—
the skirt two inches above the bony knees
sporting bruises from conflicts on concrete.
Smile pretty for the camera, crossed legs,
crimson bows, and pale lipstick shines while
painfully melting under neon lights.
A woman dressed in white—
the gown two inches above her knobby ankles,
aching from the high heels she wore for eight years
to make her appear lengthier to the human eye.
A false purity and sense of self,
hiding from the reflection in the full-length mirror.
Dressed in flannel—
white-washed jeans fade further
in the sunlight of today and tide of tomorrow.
Footprints in the sand appear unique,
and fail to recognize femininity. The pink and white
dresses society forced her to wear are tossed
in the ocean as the waves crash and break fibers
into tiny, unrecognizable pieces.