Sleeping for hours
To escape the sooth
The one that has been harboring
Harboring my need to shoot
Yes, I
I have been eager to renounce
The perfection I've painted in my complexion
All because of a mundane passion
That now
Has fainted in my perception
After the wreckage
I've seen in my soul
And feeling so small
Being praised by others
Won't ever make me feel at all
No
Not ever again
I'll inflict me that much ache
Just so that they can have something to gain
This is not a game
I am stretching my spine
And becoming aware of what I aim
YOU ARE READING
The Faces Of Nudity
Poetry◐∇◐◐∇◐◐∇◐◐∇◐◐∇◐ What am I when I don't need to pretend? When I am my own company? When I am in the comfort of a quiescent place? Our true faces remain hidden under expensive suits and cases. And "The Faces of Nudity" prompts a different gaze to the...
