Everyone wants a piece of me.
They tear at my soul,
Not seeing the person within,
One who is timid and shy,
Afraid to speak or be seen.
I dare not voice an opinion
As someone will notice me.
Far better to sit on the boundaries
Of life and watch.
My picture is a collage:
Who I was, and who I should be.
Graphic lines cut and fold my skin
To improve, reshape, or simply remove
To achieve perfection.
In whose eyes?
Eyes that sought and changed,
Then left a shallow shell of a being
Once comfortable with herself
Now left out in the rain to bleed.
The chalks and paints are washed away
Taking my life’s force with them.
I am just a mural on a wall,
A face once familiar now lost
To time and erosion.
Image credit; Sean Robertson @Unsplash
For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a woman’s painting on a wall. There are words scribbled on the sides of the wall art and people have drawn on the face too.
Written for Sadje’s What do you see #90.