I wear
a face
the world
can see;
it’s stitched
from politeness
and a broken heart,
but all you notice is
how plain it is.
*
I sit
and just let
them stare,
let them joke
and comment
on the lie while
I know the truth
deep down inside.
*
My mirror
knows what
daylight spares;
it sees me for
who I am, sees
the lies on the surface
and the truths that
hide from sight.
*
Fractured.
Cracking.
Broken.
Imperfect.
*
My disguise
is my mercy;
just as the lies
can be made fun of,
so can the truths.
*
We live
in a world
where right is
wrong and wrong
is right, and if you
don’t look like how
society wants you to,
well, you’re just
on your
own.
About the Creator
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More stories from Luna Jordan and writers in Poets and other communities.
Where's the Glory?
In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.
By Cathy Schieffelin4 days ago in Humor
Comments (1)
Societal pressure is so real and I hate it. Your poem had so much truth to it and very relatable. I loved it!