Body Worshipping

mascara

When the morning is being flawless,

And your words are being perfect.

I will curl myself up into a ball and remind myself

Of the countless flawless mornings that ended up in

Tear washed mascara and chipped nails.

I will remind myself of burning eggs on a stove you thought was too expensive for a kitchen as simple as ours.

I will remind myself of the body you worshipped in the dark

That somehow became shameful in the light.

I will remind myself that there are probably more good days than bad

And if I committed myself enough to the good days the bad will become a third of the kaleidoscope that is good.

And I will stay. I will always stay.

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