blurring the shadows from the past sleepless nights
lining soul’s windows with the cattiest of sights
flicking off the ends, 'few times for good measure
to last all through the day in pain or with pleasure
plucking the follicles that have grown astray
filling in the gaps left behind by d.n.a.
staining the pale from being pursed for too long
plumping them with shades they keep on saying are wrong
powdering the rest, especially the spots
gathering the loose strands and untangling the knots
staring at the reflection, wonder with dread:
am i seeking attention by looking less 'dead'?
2019-03-27 2.10pm