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I spread it across my face for a more solid mask
To hide the foundations and bonds of my past
In an attempt to remold the future.
Don't read this with heavy eyes
And sadness in your chest
But joy at the act of a woman,
Picking herself up again
Dictating her own fate.
Her tight braid
And red lipstick
Were used as a distraction
To hide the emptiness she felt today
(For a second)
But when oil touches skin
And the makeup melts away to reveal sincerity
The impulse and irrationality,
Fades away through the drain in the bathroom
And reveals flowers blotched on her face
In the form of redness
And stories in the form of moles
Placed like a constellation
On her cheeks.
I am still here,
My core available for those who desire it,
Even through the colours
I will paint on myself in the morning.
Not for mourning
Or to hide
But to re-draft myself day by day
Like a poem
Getting better with time.