Who I Am

Smears, smudges hide my face

In the dusty reflections of the mirror 

With shaking hands I can place 

The nose, the hair, the eyes

But in a glimpse they're chased 

From my tentative tries

To capture who I was before this. 

I do not remember 

Who I was

Before this. 

When the morning was young,

I saw myself as me. 

My face was pure

My ego not yet high-strung

Who I was was all I could be,

A girl who liked reading

A young girl who loved gleaning from the texts of another's imagination

A smile from cheek to cheek

The mirror was clean in the early light

But the makeup brush was sleek 

And sneaked it's way to my face

Soon darkened in the fading light

As the night of day assaulted who I was. 

My makeup was pretty. 

My makeup was beautiful. 

But I forgot who I was. . . . 

Who I am. 

The smudges I now banish, 

With a flourish of my hand 

The smears vanish from my reflection 

My worries of perfection flutter like sand

Being chipped away from the mask I donned 

I am losing the night

In an array of sunshine so bright

Of what was

What is

What forevermore will be 

Me, unfiltered.