Dress Up

I’m writing this poem
in lipstick I don’t wear,
on a mirror I won’t look in.
I’m adding color to a reflection
I haven’t seen in years,
cherry red lips you’ll never kiss,
a fictional existence,
the side of me no one will recognize,
painting a lie on the illusion,
playing pretend like the princess
trying on mommy’s clothes.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available onĀ amazon.

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