Oh to be so fragile as she,
to have the luxury of brokenness,
the vacation of public weakness,
to walk around in the world wearing
my true face instead of this one,
unaffected and unmoving.
Pride and Shame make such strange bedfellows.

April is National Poetry Month so I’ve pledged to write 30 poems this month. Theoretically, that’s one per day but as long as I finish the month with thirty, I’ll consider that a win. Read more about National Poetry Month at the WordPress Blog.