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Abstract

crooked path you have wandered since birth.</p><p id="b1d2">And I did not draw these lines on my face, anymore than I can control the way these words fumble out of my mouth.</p><p id="c2e5">So let us be ugly and crooked together, let us let the lines draw themselves as they will, as there is no tree that has ever grown straight.</p><figure id="7f2e"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*FFC_g-Q-HCF7b70o"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@om_07?utm_source=medium&utm_medium=referral">Om Prakash Sethia</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="7327"><b>© Carlo Zeno 2022</b></p><p id="ddfb">_____________________</p><p id="e14f">Thanks for reading, and thank you to the team at <a href="https://medium.com/know-thyself-heal-thyself">KTHT</a> for providing this space. If you like this piece and would like to support, you can consider <a href="https://ko-fi.com/carlozeno7575">buying me a coffee</a> and/or checking out two more pieces below. Thank you again. 🙏</p><div id="02e5" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/shame-1b544fac189a"> <div> <div> <h2>Shame</h2> <div><h3>A poem on the futility of perfection</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div>

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The Lines On Your Face

The accidental nature of things

The lines on your face tell a story, a poem about lost innocence and belated acceptance.

The lines on your face reveal a bittersweet resignation, like a tree that gave up trying to grow straight.

Though you no longer turn away, I can see you are still hiding something behind the lines on your face.

It is as if you are afraid of your own power, of the raw secret that might be revealed behind the lines on your face.

For your lines are different from my lines, and yet so similar — our lines both speak of fear, hatred, love, grief, loss.

For you and I are a mixed bag and our faces tell a tale of war between repression and expression, between compassion and terror.

And who am I to judge you? I cannot judge you, for I have not done one thing right this short damned life.

You did not draw those lines on your face, anymore than you dictated the crooked path you have wandered since birth.

And I did not draw these lines on my face, anymore than I can control the way these words fumble out of my mouth.

So let us be ugly and crooked together, let us let the lines draw themselves as they will, as there is no tree that has ever grown straight.

© Carlo Zeno 2022

_____________________

Thanks for reading, and thank you to the team at KTHT for providing this space. If you like this piece and would like to support, you can consider buying me a coffee and/or checking out two more pieces below. Thank you again. 🙏

Shame

A poem on the futility of perfection

medium.com

The Ineffable Power of Yin

Poem on hidden things

medium.com

Join Medium with my referral link - Carlo Zeno

As a Medium member, a portion of your membership fee goes to writers you read, and you get full access to every story…

carlozeno.medium.com