Posted in Life

Becoming Beautiful

Perfection is a standard

Easily broken.

Like a foot of snow on a cold winter morning

Unbroken and untrodden-

It must be broken to go anywhere.

Little dolls lined up on the mantle

Untouchable and unflawed-

Also unable to go anywhere.

My face and hair after hours in the bathroom

Poised and perfect-

Yet unable to go anywhere.

Once it all meets the world

Full of pain and heartache and chaos

The perfection fades, replaced by

Pathways and smudges and smile lines.

Becoming trodden and moveable and real.

Becoming Beautiful.

19 February 2014

I wrote this as I looked out the window at the foot of snow covering my yard. There were some places completely untouched but the places that offered me a hope of escaping this house where the cleared and touched places. Often I spend too long trying to make myself beautiful and then I realize that I admire the girls who are so full of joy with their hair flying everywhere and no make-up. Beauty is not always perfect.


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