I felt like being pretty today
So I layered on the black nail-polish,
It sparkles in a most seemly way,
Like asphalt on a sunny day.
I painted pretty lines around my eyes
To make the shadows less stark,
To make my eyes less dead.
I wore my favorite shirt, black shoes,
My most flattering pair of pants
So no one can tell how uncomfortable I am inside.
I slathered on the glitter
To be magical and all things mystery
But there is no magic in the world
And that's the only mystery that interests me.
I wore my hair in a dark curtain
To hide behind when life makes me ache,
But my roots are growing out
And all I feel is fake.
My poise is fabrication.
My laughter a facade.
I feel less real than Peter Pan,
Less read than a dictionary in the ghetto.
I felt like being pretty today,
But no amount of paint
Could cover the rot inside.
