Blemishes (vs) Bruising


By Michael L. Craver

Navigated by chauffeur
Hands held by an angel

Stemming from natural causes
A need for sympathetic pauses

Cured with pressure
Eliminated with patience

Rising from beneath the skin
Delivered by external forces

We hide them all,
Cover both with cosmetics

These are your imperfections
Those are their imperfections

You look in the mirror and find them
You close your eyes, never to forget them

Beautification to hide them from sight
Photos to document the tragedy

All of your friends have them
Only true friends know about them

Hiding them with hope of contact
Haunting reservations of being touched 

Unsightly places to powder over
Ugly reflexes cowering lower

Taking to the sunshine for healing rays
Sunglasses indoors, domestic shades

Onlookers glancing, downward stares
Generous force, descending stairs

Lying, in hopes of beauty sleep
Crying, fearful in battered unrest

An ugly duckling in transition
Constantly taking defensive position

We hesitate to be seen 
We shy away from our shame

Yet, layered over, glistening to what they don't know
Behind makeup, shading them from the truth

Accessorized and heading for the ballroom
A small bag in hand, escorted to a shelter

From acne to veins with a ripening of age
The slightest of touch bringing new colors to our rainbow

Knowing our blemishes are blessings from early bible study
To the 12 step recovery of an aging battered vessel

From the white or blackheads rising up from our diet
To the substance and self-infliction of a loathing spirit

Seeking extraction for photogenic vanity
Needing reassurance for the purpose of dignity

One is a battle from expectancy
The greater is the war for existence

The trials of one's frailty, simply a matter of acceptance
Our journey through bruising is a matter of conscience



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