I liked the way it made me feel
to paint my face,
to alter nature.
I was in control,
I held the power. 
A lipstick queen,
self made from
pigments,
acids,
dyes,
synthetics. 
Without them,
stripped bare,
I am conscious of
every pore,
every freckle,
every mark,
every spot.
Without them
I am forced to reconcile with the reality of
my skin.
My face.
My imperfection.
Without them 
I am forced to reconcile with the reality that
everyone can clearly see 
my imperfection.
Without them,
I am forced to confront myself
for the first time,
despite the hours
spent sitting in front of a mirror,
carefully analyzing what to add.
Over time,
without the
pigments,
acids,
dyes,
synthetics,
I found my power
by wearing every pore,
every freckle
every mark,
every spot,
every imperfection.
I own my face.
I own my skin.