Poems · writing

I’m Still Ugly, you’re still fat.

A painting of a woman,
Seen through the eyes of a girl.
Wide, wondering,
How she could have been so

Tired.

Stretched out skin,
A pallor unbecmoning;
An echo of teenage elasticity;^,,,
Losing the
 plasticity

                 of youth.

Do you know her?
A droll mask of age.
Predictable in her grooves,
The shadows haunting eyes,

        Heart,
   
                 Mind.



                        ...and do you mind?

If she sits awhile nearby.

Face reflecting on
   water;
where she would like to be.

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