I paint my nails a pretty cobalt blue,
The type of blue my grandmother would’ve loved.
The type of blue that would’ve existed as
A pair of heels in her glamorous closet.
She always had the elegance of an angel.
Now, she floats above somewhere,
Probably still carrying her lipstick around
Like a magic wand.
The nails dry with a gorgeous gloss finish.
They glow vibrantly under an ever-smiling, sinister sun.
The cobalt shimmers,
Spotlighting the confident, ethereal color
Which is plastered onto my nails.
I stare deep into the nails
And almost see my grandmother’s
Stunning reflection
Contemplating me.
Her curly brown hair
Always sat like a halo above
Her shoulders;
Her manicured nails were
Always paired with her shiny
Wedding ring.
My nails are nothing
Compared to her perfection,
And yet, having them done makes me
Feel momentarily beautiful.
I go to school the next day and wait for compliments,
Like a robot waiting to be programmed.
“I love your nails,”
The mass says in unison.
“Thank you,” I reply with a smile.
My cheeks rise ludicrously to my ears,
But my heart remains unbothered.
My stupid mind tells my heart that the mass is lying;
Complimenting me to my face
But laughing at this dolled up swine behind its back.
I go to admire the nails as I open my locker but notice that
A spot of beige has snuck its way onto my thumbnail.
Great.
The cobalt blue nails have already chipped;
I just started the day but my mask has already begun slipping off.
I go from class to class
Like a ghost aimlessly wandering the halls of a high school.
I don’t receive any more compliments.
I suppose even a sliver of my real self turns people off
And keeps people away.
After school, I go to a cute boutique to cheer myself up.
I try on a blouse with pretty pink polka dots.
Part of my mind thinks I look like a princess;
Like the beautiful teenager my seven year old self always dreamed about becoming.
She would’ve twirled around in this blouse
And paired it with her grandmother’s azure glass heels.
She would’ve worn it to school and felt like she owned every hallway.
I can almost see her small hand pressing against the mirror…
The other part of my mind sees a different image.
It sees an ugly girl with a figure like a chalkboard.
It sees a beast entangled by foreign fabrics.
It sees grotesque claws expanding from under
A once pristine cobalt blue polish.
I walk out of the boutique without buying anything.
Hideous creatures like me don’t deserve beautiful clothes.
I head home.
I rush to my bathroom to fix the blue nails,
But accidentally pick up the polish remover
Instead of the bright blue polish.
The blue comes off quickly, as if the clock just struck midnight.
I’m no longer the cobalt blue that my nails once painted me as,
I’m now just a monster with boring nails and a practiced smile.