The cratered wrinkles have set deep under my eyes

they can’t disguise

this new found insecurity I have with beauty

I just can’t

glare at the mirror staring back

anticipating what you see

except my reflection

flat and imperfect is trapped in the glass

I just can’t 

there are earthquakes beneath my fingertips

why would you entrust your heart 

to someone whose hands shake

I’m trying my best to hold still for you