every blemish and all fine lines
looking closer in the brilliant light
I still see the pieces whole
though I try to cover it completely
cosmetics just don't do the trick
truth stares back at the end of the day
when the powder is washed away
with the breaking of each crimson dawn
weakness filters in with the sun
after sweet dreams...how real they seemed
cotton candied fantasies --
before they overcome me
before I trip on what's not there
I reckon with the reflection
and how I got from there to here
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
No comments:
Post a Comment