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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