Mirror, mirror
Questioning the time…
Mirror mirror
I’m no longer a child
Where has the time gone ?
Now I have a story to tell
My wrinkles do not let me lie
As I blink my eyes I see
Expressions landing on my face
A book without preface
Feel the masterpiece of freedom
Some chapters are indigestible
Filled with glory days
Every time you leaf through
A piece of shame get lost
Emblazoned with a naked true
Of walls that no longer exist
Mirror mirror
Time feels like slipping through my door
Tiny eyes full of humanity
Lost in the intensity of memories
I no longer wish to be treated
Like a girl I once was
Those scars belongs to a woman
Which Burned without needing fire 🔥
About the Creator
Lisa santos
Love writing crazy things and read also!!
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress7 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Awesome piece, I like the rise from the ashes metaphor 👏🏿