My Not So Easy Make Up ...

The curve.

The S.

The bevel of my flesh.


What makes me, me,

Is that I don't care what others see.

My simple scar.

Can easily be seen from afar.

But to me, you see

Scars are what form us

They are of  course, made of us.


The collagen cut so far to make that beautiful scar

It adds to my character, my spunk, my charm

But, of course this is not all I am.


I am a daughter, sister, survivor

Yeah I knew every one was waiting for those labels.

Does it satisfy or make you think?

That perhaps you belittle too much

So for now until the social change,

I am a daughter, sister, survivor, student, female, writer...


Dark brown of my eyes and hair.

My favor for the sky.

My quirks my kinks.

The power in which I think.


Stitch by stitch

My body was fixed

My favorite songs I love to mix.


Hobbies hooks,

Oh, I so very much love books!

Literature, plays, theater, movies, Oh! how I am so hooked.


Me is me

But the catch is I am not what you see.

This is very ok with me.

I am who I am and that is who I intend to be.


This poem is about: 


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