I was ready to wither away into The grass, the dirt, my roots; Infiltrating the space where my stringed pearls And rings and shiny little angels huddled together Not for warmth- but filthy acceptance.
I saw myself in the mirror, Did you see me too? Or was I that speck of glitter clinging Onto you by the skin of your eyelids
Down on my knees begging, "Please don't brush me off," because my bark will bear you: blazed always A portrait of the directions To find my way back home.