Hide

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Life taught her well –

hide beneath pretty

packaging, paint sleeves

pink like brittle

.

fingernails to ward

off the curious

and offer a semblance

of heart without

.

engagement. Scars

mean band-aids,

amateurish wrappings

to disguise the terror

.

of being known, the

risk of offering her

self and finding that

she is not enough.

Grieving


You’ve wept until your eyes are puffed

In turtle-shell disguise,

Your face is red, your cheeks are stained

With tears that trace your cries.

You hang your head as sorrow deep

Weighs your visage down;

You’ve cried heart dry so many times,

It weeps without a sound.

But you don’t see that in your grief

Your blooms are opening wide;

Rich beauty lies within your pain,

Allurement which can’t hide.

And as you grieve, the Master of

Your heart is drawing near;

He wipes your eyes, and as you cry,

True beauty washes clear.