I wake up and look in the mirror

Cringe at the disheveled sight

Every imperfection

Blemished cheeks and bloodshot eyes

My every critique





Has me screaming

My nose grows

Every line in my face now creasing

So seemingly

Devoid of beauty, destined to be the beast…

So I step back

And breathe

And see



Then suddenly,

the mirror is scratched,

chipped, and dirty

I exchange my eyes

For crystal clear, pristine


And it’s still not perfect

But it’s me.

And my imperfections

Are almost too small to see

Manageable, at least

And as I sit in sonder

I see tragedy




Like I saw me

The only way to inner peace?

Polish the looking glass

Use it




6 thoughts on “Cheeks

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

The Essence of you

Inspire Innovate Improve.

I didn't have my glasses on....

A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.

Daydreaming as a profession

Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.


Blossom. Re-blossom. Keep doing it.

Ramblings Of A Fragile Mind

"All my life's buried here, heap earth upon it"

%d bloggers like this: