I do my hair at night
Play dress up in the dark
Why do I show the best
The prettiest parts of me
In shadows and closed rooms
Where no one else can see?

In the morning, I don’t brush
My dark unruly hair
I don’t powder up my face
To hide my imperfections
Is it the real or ugly side
I’m showing by these actions?

But can’t they all be
One and the same thing?
To be ugly and beautiful
And at once so completely real
It was the way we were made
We changed it to fit our ideals

And I smile behind closed doors
The only real smile I can muster
I laugh at nothing at all
When there’s nobody else around
If I do this out there, I’m crazy
So out there, I make no sound

Why is beauty only found
Behind all these closed doors?
In shadows and hidden corners?
They’re the only real places we are allowed
To be free of ruthless players

I think I know why now.

Osculate.
To kiss.
An innocent brush
Of two lovers’ lips

A glance into
The other’s wide eyes
A sharp intake of breath
Soft fingers on cheeks

The first taste is always
The purest of all
A gasp against mouth
The tugging of hair

There will never be enough
Not even after you’re out
Of precious breaths
For the best kinds of love and passion,
Steals the air out of your lungs

Yet it will be easy,
As simple as breathing
Just with a new kind of oxygen
The best one we know

Obliterate.
Destroying all
That is innocent
Two sinful souls
Uniting into one

Heavy breaths and
Pleasured gasps
Fingers sliding
Against smooth skin

And the time comes
It’s a giant explosion
The strongest of all
Known human emotions

Osculate.
A simple kiss.
A promising brush
Of two lovers’ lips.

This rule, this law,
This way to walk
This right, this wrong
This way to talk
The unspoken agreements
Written across the sky,
On the surface of the Earth
Yet we never question why.

And that way, that rule
That societal law,
That good, that bad
That old mortal flaw
A prison we created
A cage of our manufacture
What savages we’ve become
From fighting our ‘savage’ nature

That beauty, that ugliness
That worthy, that not
That clever, that foolish –
Each a lie we’ve all bought
Where the hell did they come from?
Who the hell made these rules
If not for ourselves?
We don’t see it – we’re fools.

And there are no profiteers
We’re all just losers here
To not believe it, or to think like them
Is to let yourself be tricked by the system.