I gild myself
in a sheet of
plastic, thick enough
so that no one
can see through…
Like an Easter egg shell;
I let them hollow out
the sloppy insides,
and paint my delicate skin.
I am no individual, I am
cultivated, harvested,
like the simple product I am.
Protect me: my flesh is delicate,
They’ll throw me away
at the first sight of a crack.
You consume my comrades,
But I am lucky—
I am now but a pretty little shell,
Painted pink and lush to conceal the sallowness
of my frail and immaculate skin.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 10:33 PM UTC
I gild myself
in a sheet of
plastic, thick enough
so that no one
can see through…
Like an Easter egg shell;
I let them hollow out
the sloppy insides,
and paint my delicate skin.
I am no individual, I am
cultivated, harvested,
like the simple product I am.
Protect me: my flesh is delicate,
They’ll throw me away
at the first sight of a crack.
You consume my comrades,
But I am lucky—
I am now but a pretty little shell,
Painted pink and lush to conceal the sallowness
of my frail and immaculate skin.
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