Why are you pulling at these hopeless desires?
I don’t want you to think me pretty,
This cloak decorating me like a Christmas tree.
Is it so difficult to understand,
that I don’t want to be attractive?
Because it would be nothing short of a lie
and truth is so sacred
and so scarce.
There is no beauty here for you,
and all the unpretty thoughts will poison any who venture too close.
Its like I have to lay down the warning
and put space between us
So that you don’t see me.
Desire to look as empty and broken
as I feel.
Why are you pushing me to deceive?
to wear this body that isn’t mine,
It’s just an accumulation of advice
But I still don’t want to be fixed
I want to hide from myself
and contemplate the meaning of beauty
For beauty can only exist where truth lives
In a place you cannot share.
Perhaps it’s just that you see beauty in strength
and I am entranced by frailty.
You want me to be strong and vibrant
But it’s so far from my bones,
My fragile, delicate subtlety.
It may be sick to worship paper-thin
And translucent spirits,
But sickness bears its own sombre beauty
That of certain decay.
But I can’t share this place with you
It’s a lonely kind of religion.
© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author