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Array
(
[sid] => 35331
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Vanity
[time] => 2004-02-17 16:19:18
[hometext] => Vanity isn't always a bad thing, though that isn't want I'm insisting with this poem... The person isn't me, not always anyway... But we're all a part of her. I don't think this is much of a poem, not much imagery here, but I wanted to post it anyway.
[bodytext] => Sometimes I just don't know Why silk powder sits, caked, on my eyelids Or why black grease colors around my eyes And red to match shines from the cracks in my lips And it is infinitely difficult to explain Why I, at only 7 years, was willing to sit on a counter and have holes shot in my ears And why today those holes are gaged open with polished silver balls. I used to know why I wrap colored fabric around me Exposing only the tops of teardrops of skin that swell over my heart It was cool to have a screaming glaze on my toenails And when I was surrounded by fully erect beings I was happy Why was I happy about that? Is there something magic hidden in black lace? And while it makes my calves tickle and then go numb I will remain wearing my purple vinyl shoes with needles holding up the heels Even when I simply fly down the stairs Into a pristine lump on the landing I wont show the pain The happy people surround me when I speak high-pitched I will worry more about letting the top of my pink satin underwear peak out of my jeans Jeans that would fit a two year old And just enough so they stand up straight and love me. If you could see how excited I can make them If you could see how happy they are You would do it too Because who doesn't want to make someone happy? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 186 [topic] => 30 [informant] => Suz [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => PoemsonBeauty )
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