She walks past the newsstand,
Black,
with a sign.
“NEWS”.
Classic.
Filled with magazines.
Heels thumping on the ground.
She looks down towards the sidewalk,
covered in black dots that she knows is old gum.
But she can't resist,
She looks at the magazines.
“Get Fit!”
They say,
depicting a woman with a six pack,
her thighs miniscule,
her hair long,
her skin tan.
She looks at her boots,
her bigger thighs and stomach cut into the view. 
“I will never be beautiful.”
She whispers.

On the other side of the stand,
a girl with long chestnut hair,
thin thighs,
and perfect clothes,
at least by instagram’s standards,
looks at a magazine.
The woman on the magazine has light skin,
black hair,
and curves.
She looks at her thin body,
her skin a soft tan like the brown on a toasted marshmallow,
her eyes the shape of mangos.
No curves.
Seeing this makes her feel as confident as a rejected model. 
“I will never be beautiful.”

On the third side of the cube newsstand stands a girl,
a girl who likes girls and boys,
a girl with a tight and muscular stomach,
and dark skin.
Her hair is short and very curly,
her eyes dark brown and circular.
Her arms big and toned,
her thighs thick and strong.
She looks at the magazine,
depicting a fair skinned woman,
the cover reads,
“How to get a boyfriend fast!”
Tears start to form in her eyes,
when she remembers the words,
the words that were said by her friends,
at school and online.
She was too strong,
it was ‘freaky’.
“You know, Honey, if you lost some weight maybe boys would like you.”
If her mother didn't think she was pretty,
who would?
Not the rest of the world.
“I will never be beautiful.”

On the fourth side of the cube shaped newsstand,
stands a girl,
her hair hid under her headscarf,
her eyes bright green,
her upper lip has a few hairs sprouting,
she hides them with her hand.
“Boy or girl?”
“American of Muslim?”
There is no in between.
She looks at a magazine,
depicting a woman with her hair showing,
wearing skimpy clothes,
showing her skin.
She looks at her long sleeved shirt and jeans,
fine in the winter,
but when warm weather comes,
she’ll attract attention.
“I will never be beautiful.”

The things that we cannot change do not define our beauty,
or our femininity.
We are not the problem.