We bear our sins
past, present,
imagined
A recording
of accusation
from a chorus
ill-wishing
remembrances
of human frailties
A woman’s measure
dwindles
under the burdens
of imperfection
Smiles are not kind
but a glossy cover
for judgment
And love
that inner circle
is not
the protector
But the fierce accuser
The scientist
Until our lives
are reduced
reframed
retaken
a bastardized
version
of who we are
Reblogged this on lampmagician.