A Decade Later

(Venus Emerging from the Sea - Titian C.1525)

Coming up for Air

I'm the ugly girl
in the glasses,
the tied up hair,
the elephant foot,
the oozing of weakness,
the change
of a Christian Dior girl
into a fumbling, crying,
needy idiot.
Come on, don't tell me
you never saw through the mask before?
Don't tell me you never knew
how plainness
was my hidden wound,
buried deep inside
years of failure,
covered up in
tattoes, shawls,
smells of exotic perfumes?
Didn't you see
the strength was delivered
from the need to be strong?
The rain fell in pours,
on my messy, unbridled hair,
the waves dragged me in,
unbuttoning my high heeled shoes.
Seeping water, disinfectant, burning salt,
years and layers
of trying to break free,
the rouge trickled on my cheeks,
where tears had flown before.
Scared at first, I step out gingerly,
I emerge, defenceless, faceless, bare,
I emerge pure and unafraid,
this time not nervous or caring
of what the naked people on the shore
think of my tattered gown,
anymore.