I swallow my tongue to the twists and turns of bones covered by a layer of skin
Painted lips and wings of black leave this world dependent on what is out and what is in
A deserter of vanity and a refugee to comfort and love
A string of foul endearment terms I am known by the name of
I'm quick to disappear
A momentary capture of what is held so dear
Like a transient spell of a simple fear of being the same
A clone of the world that doesn't know it's own name
"Beautiful" is the word that has many escapes
In the eyes of your peers the meaning translates into something so different and foul
In the eyes of a lover the word makes their heart scowl
We were born to be real, not perfect