The Face That I Keep In The Jar By The Door

Today I have on my second skin.
It coats me like gold leaf: makes me dazzle,
Glinting in the watery winter sun,
I stand radiant and alluring.
I love this sheen of golddust, for it reveals only beauty;
Ghosted armour keeps the rainbows out and the demons in.
There is no need for strangers to see the rotten core inside me.
No, under this snake-skin I am fine,
Hidden in shallow prettiness.
Noone shall want to see beyond,
Not dream of marring this veil by scratching the glittering surface
Not allow the evil to ooze out.
So I am safe in here,
From prying eyes,
And paper smiles,
And Crayola coloured words.

Perpetually searching for some cliched sense of belonging I have thrown myself to various winds. Usually with the dreariest of consequences. Sometimes this results in poetry. Sometimes.

Last updated October 27, 2011