I don’t want makeup to make me look pretty
I want makeup to turn my face into a monster, with red eyeshadow and smeared
black liner telling a tale of the battles fought everyday against the world and
Or an alien,
with stars of glitter collapsing and dying on my cheeks,
Showing all the magic of the galaxy that is me.
Or maybe a neon sign;
Garish pink lipstick with yellow and purple shadow up to my eyebrows, screaming
“I AM STILL HERE”
In a world, body, mind, life where I feel I don’t belong
Or am not wanted or not understood
I am still here.
Makeup provides a way to express all of these uncertainties.
It can be ok that I don’t know who I am, because I can be some other creature,
And I can wear that identity as armor.
When I feel invisible
Lost in translation or assimilation
My face can loudly tell a story that could otherwise have been buried.
And no matter if my own brain is sick and tired of this life, confused and
unsure and afraid,
I can find comfort
In all of these colors painted on my skin.
– Jasper Mancebo