Rhinoplasty

I look into my mirror. Through swollen eyes, I see an unfamiliar face. Still the same, But somehow different, Somehow improved, Yet simultaneously destroyed. The cast is the figure of a bird Flying into the future, Flying into a new world of possibilities, Yet flying into fog – unable to predict what he will see next. I see bruises on my cheeks, On my eyes. It’s the new trend – Black and blue eyeliner. The grease in my hair is my stopwatch. I can’t shower, I can’t wet the cast. I try to smile, but this bird won’t let me. He tells me to stay put if I want to look pretty. I say: But Mr. Cast, can’t you see me? It’s too late! He stiffens and tells me, One must never forget that beauty only comes As a result of sacrifice, suffering, and scars.