Learn Faster
By Anna Hurtado
She knew that she was pretty,
With her ringlets and smooth skin,
Her green eyes cast sultry beneath lashes
Still she wore clashing colors and these strange
Gold and red track shoes
That had belonged to her mom
She wore ripped jeans and pilly black tee-shirts
Worn enough to show the training bras
Her grandma had bought her
from the Rack.
Her friends accused her of wearing makeup,
Pointing out her thick, dark lashes and
Naturally groomed brows and her
Flushed cheeks
And she made it into
A Thing
That she didn’t
It became important that she didn’t
Being pretty was one thing but putting effort into one’s appearance
Was another.
She had been taught from dubious sources
that Those Women
Were not as self respecting, smart,
Tough
As they should be.
But then high school came around and
She realized she was old enough
To wear a crop top so she did,
Bearing her slim bronze midriff
To an appreciative world
And it became a game.
Can I get this boy to like me?
How about this one?
The answer was almost always
Yes.
Maybelline Waterproof Mascara
In its pink bullet
Made her lashes appear even longer
And her eyes more dramatic
Concealer hid the occasional zit and
She liked to smooth metallic powder on her eyelids
When it was a special occasion
She forgot what it her eyes looked like without the waxy shellac
Of mascara.
Eventually her body became especially curvy
In places and
Boys wanted to be close
To those places
She had her pick
without really considering
If she wanted any of those boys
in the first place
But
A boy with small hands
Decides to make her his girlfriend
Which she soon discovers
Involves nothing but having
Your pants reached into and your new underwear pushed aside
Without asking
While you are sitting next to him
At a party with all your friends
She can’t move and her mouth
Is gone
All that’s left behind are lips
Glossed hopefully in light pink
completely useless
Except for as pleasure for another person
Her body quickly learns the art of
Staying very still and hoping
That it’ll be over quickly.
“This poem is referencing something I think that a lot of female presenting people have to deal with as they grow up; the dangers of being wanted and how scary it can be. Most of my work revolves around my experience as a woman and about femininity.” – Anna Hurtado