Redemption

 

Stripped of my vanity

I wear you like a crown

strands of white

downy floating on the

sides of my face.

Gentle like the wind,

gentle like my soul,

I am comfortable

in my skin,

unveiling scars of shame,

and unheard confessions.

The crows feet are seen,

I do not wish to hide them,

or erase them.

The mirror does not lie,

nor do I.

My narrative

is mine to tell.

We all have one,

or two.

How wild have you lived,

have you been afraid of your shadow.

I walked alone,

I did not need acceptance,

I did not fear the unknown.

Curiosity and wonder 

were my companions.

I wear my failures

on my skin,

on the map of my soul,

in my dark eyes

and my enlightened being.