the rush from the bristles gliding
across her naked face
she longs to be beautiful
her scarred heart skips a beat
she realizes she has missed a patch
empty of stain
her lips ache to be flamboyant
her eyes speak to her with words of
she stares down at the sink
gazes at that black small hole
her mind tells her that is where she is headed
heaven she is most certainly not fit for
with a face like hers
she will surely drown in the depths of hell
she looks back up at the condescending mirror
focuses on her empty eyes
she realizes ”what” she is
an accessible body
sold for green paper
that will buy her
next week’s powder….
the white kind.
I got emotionally attached to this mystery girl that i spend time creating..poetry prompt was to describe someone you see working at their jobs or w/e…initially i was going to observe a makeup artist in my mind but my subconscious got the better of me (as always) and decided after seeing last nights events it needed to come out somehow..sad when people only have a body to work with and literally live off of it…hope this wasnt too disturbing..