Gripping with the fingernails.
Gaining that slight purchase.
Picking away at imperfections,
never knew there were so many.
Slide a finger in behind
the thin veneer that covers vessels,
watch your smiling eyes disappear;
I bet you never knew this pleasure.
Stripping off
that wasted paint
and layer upon layer
of dismal
compensation.
You don’t have to fake,
use your imagination.
Under all those little imperfections,
you are golden,
you are flawless.
Sorry that I had to trick you.
You wouldn’t have believed me
if I told you to your face
that you were doing it wrong.
Every complicated gesture,
ineffective
and leaving you
dumb and vulnerable.
I always tried my best
to respect your intellect
a little more than most.
I can see the desire
in your smile,
in the way you speak
in every movement of your bones.
You’re wearing your greatest mistakes
like the trophy skin
of a vanquished enemy,
but you’re becoming
your own worst thing;
desecrating
yourself without even knowing it.
You’re so afraid to reside
under one sky,
with a smooth, ripe skin;
right back where we begin.
So you put on a disguise,
act like you’re proud to lie,
you’re just trying to hide,
while somewhere deep inside,
resides a perfect form,
created for this war,
an instrument so tuned,
to the pitch of the universe.
So let me peel away
the layers of your face;
I know that under
all that bullshit,
you are in there.
Flawless.
HG -2017
