While most people rush to brag about their Moms Or their precious little dog they call TomI’m going to tell you about my makeup collectionAnd how it saved more than just my complexion  I was always a curious little 3rd graderI would go into my mother’s closet and raid herJewelry box filled will necklaces and ringsDress up as a queen and my brother a king One day I spotted a little black bagGripped my attention like a bullfighter flagAs I zipped it open with quiet bravadoMy face lit up like I found El Dorado Filled with lipsticks, foundation, and mascaraI knew that this was the start of an eraBut what 8-year old me could not have knownIs that 12-years old me would be all alone The start of 7th grade was when my life went to messBest friend in Oregon and no one at recessForced to grow up at such a young ageTaking care of my brother while my parents earned wage Trapped in a cage I was curious againWent to my bathroom with an eyeliner penI found my true self with cosmetic artThe only true way I knew how to express my heart Soon my loneliness was all goneMakeup gave me the confidence I wanted so longBut if I was stuck on an island, I’d want the internetActually no, then I’d have to pay my college debt