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My Appearance Parade ft. m i r r o r

My Appearance Parade ft. m i r r o r
The appearance parade
I am a woman,
and tellings told,
when I was months old-
how my skin
should drape itself around
the curves and motions
of the hollow skeleton,
smeared with blood,
and uneven smothering of flesh,
here and there,
and here again.
I am a woman,
I said today,
without any telling told,
and my skin refused
to suffocate
my scattered dreams,
and my flawed beams,
refused to break
my smiling jaw,
in the middle of the night,
when no mirror was in sight,
and my appearance parade
still marched in sync
with the tellings told.
The mirror,
looked up to me,
through the dishevelled skin,
and the reckless layers,
in biological terms,
and chemical blends,
looking at
a monarch of wrecked blooms,
a temple of untold whims,
a rest of restless hopes,
a body of mess and gloom.
the mirror,
in a voice like my own,
about the wars wrapped
in the layers of my flesh,
in the towns painted red,
every thirty days,
whispers grew louder,
now in verses,
sounding like prayers,
to be kind to me,
as I have been to thee.
to pour in the love,
whilst I poured all, beyond.
prayers now boomed,
like commands and rules,
like begging and reigning-
the mirror told me
I was born in my shield,
I won wars in this shield,
I grew in this shield,
and shall breathe my last,
in my shield.
my appearance parade
now broke into celebration.
the marches were over,
the dances were in.
I looked up to the mirror,
as it looked back at me,
gleaming and reciting,
a prayer to rehearse,
the prayer was etched,
on my body-
my mirror shattered,
and fell on me,
leaving scars on my shield,
singing hymns of victory.
my appearance parade
now shines gloriously
in my own eyes.
my mirror
now resides in my heart,
no tellings told,
only victories, bold,
my mirror
now worships my own.

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