The Year I Turned Pretty

I always thought I had a sweet face
Hidden behind baby fat and
Hair grown long.
Naive and inexperienced,
But content,
Until I got sick.
Seventeen-years-old
With a bacteria-ridden body,
Barely holding down food,
Feeling my insides turn ugly and broken
As my intestines failed me.
I laid useless for three months
Chopped my hair like Daisy Buchanan
Had no choice but
To let my illness ravage me.
Weak and morose
My body shed weight,
My chin grew more angular,
My cheekbones broke surface
And just like that, I was pretty.
And just like that, I was treated differently,
But I felt worse than before.
Now my immune system was shattered glass,
Pretending to protect but letting everything seep in.
I’m told to embrace my newfound attention and
Live like a queen, but
Too many years ignored left me confused
And now I wonder when I can stop
Drinking up perfume
To make me feel pretty on the inside.