Wear

 

I wear tram lines of bygone days,

stretched skin, translucent grey.

I wear misery in bags below the eyes,

in every worry line

that sits and inwardly sighs

I wear grief in the deep black of my pupils,

to see it you have to look within

but it's there and in it you'll see me sinking.

I wear regret in the skin I hold,

in the rolls of fat,

I wear the holes

where all of my joy

used to sit.

 

I wear pain,

a t-shirt stretched

to cover every inch of my skin,

but its worn

and wearing thin.

I wear hurt like a hat

thorn encrusted to ensure

that trust is earned,

that I'm not taken out back

and beaten with

a metaphorical baseball bat.

 

I also wear laughter

in the lines beside my mouth,

the dimples

that I never let turn down.

I wear happiness

in those wistful looks

like I'm looking through

some old photograph book.

I wear music that makes me whole,

In the little flourishes

that dance through my soul.

I wear wonder

like a pair of new contact lenses.

Helping me to see with

reinvigorated senses.

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle