Skin Deep

It’s World Poetry Day and after some hunting about in the wicker basket of ancient papers, I found this poem I wrote when I was sixteen:

I don’t love you anymore

Don’t think I ever really did

It was all a pretence like our faces

Made up Geisha

White, red and black

I pretend to be not me                                        geisha

I am me but not

If you know what I mean

I don’t want to be me

Just want to be a reflection

Don’t want to see my face

White, red and black

Just want to be a piece of art

Just want to act, pretend

Reflect, dissipate, curve and bend

Your image of me

This is just my skin

I paint it every day

I dress to be somewhere else

I dress to impress me, not you

You and me are finished

I don’t love you anymore

I never really did

 

 

 

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