I stole beauty from another girl--
Ripped it right out of her handsIn a hail of cosmetics and hairspray,
Then ghosted away with it to my underground lair.
But when I tried to bash it open,
The lock wouldn't budge
And anyway, it wasn't my size.
I took it to my mother's house and dropped it dead center on her holiday table--
Shrieking, I raked my broken fingernails right down to the bone of love and hatred that props us together, and she
Embraced
The locked
Foreign
Beauty that I ripped off from some bitch on the bus,
And said, "Daughter,
At last!
Welcome home."
___________
for What's Going On? "Beauty"
I felt every word of this, especially the closing lines. And the labels. I love best "and anyway it wasnt my size" and "I am I said." Yes, you are. A star.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fearsome poem - I hope true beauty and love will prevail - Jae
ReplyDelete