Her words dug at me,
Scraping across my skin like a
Chisel on stone.

I thought I was as
Hard as marble,
But, it seems in her hands, I am as
Soft as clay.

After she completed her work,
I did not recognize the
Face in the mirror.

Chipped away,
I have been
Broken down,
Defeated and
Molded into a pleasing
Compliant form.

Agreeable and lovely on her arm, a
Painted on smile
On display in a
Traveling exhibit of unknown

oriental-statue-of-women– Written for dVerse Poetics, prompt was “sculpting a poem.” Photo from PublicDomainPictures.net.


Author: LearaWrites

I am a voice actor, an artist, a photographer, and a writer, not necessarily in that order. I love animals and the ocean. I have an AA in Fine Arts and a BA in Psychology. I am an observer, a storyteller, a dreamer.

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