Someone Else’s Picture Poem by Corynn Bernhardt
A tear on her cheek, wetting its palette.
A soft white shimmer on a rose petal
Like the dew fall on a calm fall morning.
It lingers there like water on a leaf
Unknowing of its destiny to fall
Off the face of its Earth, flying through space.
The tear makes me think the horn poked her hard.
Tore the skin, shed some blood, leaving a scar
On her rib, hidden from the world, beneath
Her heart, her soft tissue is torn, broken.
With every movement it rips back open.
With every breath, it increases in size.
I suppose now it would be called a wound.
A scar implies it has healed. It has not.
This wound is red, black, with pieces of lint
And dirt and raw spots where its been rubbed at
Daily, so it stays there vulnerable.
Now, part of her has been taken away
On the tip of that unicorn’s sharp horn.
Is anything ever worth such pain? Well,
That’s not for us to decide, it is her’s.
She looks away, embarrassment fills her.
She can’t stand it when people see her cry.
She’s not as vulnerable as her wound.
Or at least that’s what she likes to think. Here,
She holds something precious; it’s not enough.
She holds something unrealistic, fake.
Her dress tight, her hair curled, mere perfection.
Behind her, a palace, she sits inside.
A ruby and a pearl, around her neck
Dangle from a knot in front of her chest.
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