We awake to create.
It’s the first breath thats a sign of being alive.
Just me in the mirror,
It’s the scar below my eyebrow that i’ve grown to love.
It tells a story, very few know.
I have green eyes that no one seems to write about,
Blue and Brown are all they sing aloud.
No freckles but moles.
I have ballet toes.
My hair- I swept to my back.
Brushing it through,
One could say I thought of you.
I hush the thought and grab my clothes.
Another door shall open,
for that one had to be closed.