Sleeping Beauty


No blanket can cover a hard days work

Stories of strength behind each line

Tucked between her furrowed brows


Rosy, rusty, deep bronze shadows

Wiped clean. Flesh reveals her glow


She doesn’t acknowledge

This natural state.

No powder, no grease, nor chiseled face;


All an illusion for power must prevail

Twists and turns all night. It’s a struggle

Keeping it together. she could not fail.


Unwinding thoughts, broken spokes;

Clock per ticks to hands awake.


Nothing and everything

happens in between these hours.

Fading fast. Glimpse of strings

Connect alarming buzz in disguise

repeated too soon

cycled beautifully

to open her glassy eyes.


Piercing glances, she picks up her

Brush to paint her story. To face. She sees

whom she cannot deny,

which IS to be whoever she wants to be.