the stench of nail polish
a stinging layer of milky ****
keep the layers orthodox
they shall not mix
just like the feelings
we keep in our chest
sometimes they are beautiful
yet they still hurt
to breathe in too closely  
we try to stay
a far distance, that is
polish all the flaws
the compartments
we believe need
to suffocate and hide
cover them up
distract with a hue
a layer of hardening glue
so the breath in our chests
won't penetrate through