If I paint myself

By

Serena Mossgraves

Would you love me
if I paint myself
to resemble the child
you wanted me to be?
plucking away each
of my differences
making sure I was just
the one you planned me to be ?

The paint is peeling,
perfection an illusion,
not reality…
I cannot make myself
fit the dream of who I should be.

If I paint myself to fit the world
I lose the colors I was given at my birth,
And darkness settles in…
smothering my mirth.