She does not see ugly in the mirror anymore.
She adorns her glorious mane with blood red bows
and braids in the broken promises of her father.
Razors were once used to chop herself down to size,
make it easier for men to chew her up.
For her thirteenth birthday she was given a pack neon Bic’s.
He started to call her beautiful
but the kisses always stopped at the stubble.
It only took a few weeks for the blade to find it’s way
to collar bones,
It took her a few years to realize
her demons could not be shaved away.
She learned eye contact is essential in taming the beast.
Everyday, it became easier to love her scruffy face.
The pink guillotine has now found its way to the bottom drawer.
The scars are starting to look like kindred spirits
and her beard now reaches down to her belly button.
It is a testament to how many days she
has survived without your grace.
A bearded a lady is lady saved herself.