keep trying, love
he says; i say
he calls me perfect as i am;
i paint myself in vivid shades
of blue and red
to satisfy
to feel ignored
and yet, to want
to look at myself—
fears make me female;
headaches and sore feet
make me human;
nothing makes me beautiful
like
—but my scars,
equalizers;
they make me look to others
the way i look in the mirror
—inverse—
and when they know my thoughts
theirs change;
when they know that i agree
they disagree;
while still i stand
the whips of their tongues lash
until i am beaten
beyond repair
when they turn
they swallow their voices
to criticize themselves
to praise my strength;
but skin, even burned
yields to a blade like the sea
to the hands of man
like blue to green,
to gold, to white
—to nothing