The wrinkles under his eyes

spell experience and trust

as his overworked lips form the words

let yourself be raw

but even then i paint. 

I paint over the bruise on my cheek

that everyone looks at but nobody sees

I paint my words and you are fooled

with a single lie that

drips

from

my lips

like honey

I paint my body with a sculpted stomach

and toned arms

To hide the hate it took to find my ribs

I paint my face.

We all paint our faces.

An angry fist breaks the mirror because

a broken mosaic of

"Might Be's"

is more satisfactory

and we shout out imperfections to the world because

inferior

has a sofer bite than

irrelevant

but how can you really see yourself

in a mirror broken 

by the lies you tell it? 

and so my soul may refuse to break 

and my heart will no longer break

at shallow statement

This is my redemption.