Cursed

Arrive home from the office at dusk.
There are red streaks in the royal sky
As if the sunset were bleeding;
I know the feeling.

Can’t hide my bitterness. Their laughter
Runs through me like a blade.
With their skeletal structures and tight skin.
Judging eyes.
It’s not my fault I was cursed with curves.
Why should I be singled out?
When they are the ones who are stiff
Like mannequins in shop windows.

Pass the bedroom mirror and stop
To take in the sight.
In my frustration my hand shoots out
And punches my own reflection.
Cracks spread like a web from my fist.
The mirror has my tears and now my blood.

You return to find me nursing my hand.
See the silver shards on the carpet
And you know what has happened.
You are my bandage.
You wrap your arms around me tightly
Covering my wounds from the world.

I may have been cursed with curves
But I was blessed with you.