I'm not straight out of a magazine
nor worth a different gaze

men don't faze
women neither want to taste

I'm somewhere in between
nowhere to be seen

now
and then
i like
to turn off
the lights
let the moon
and instinct
guide me
swallowed
by the dark
there is no path
   to choose
only chance;
blind luck
balancing upon
   the finest of lines

eyes will adapt
to the pitiful offering
of the clouded crescent
but
there is neither
enough silvery light
nor confidence
to be sure
of safety
for long

in the enveloping darkness
anxiety rises
fear overpowers
and faith
in the self
becomes questionable;
headlights
are flicked on again
in panicked haste

as the road
and its obstacles
become clear once more
i am left
wondering
if i truly believed
i could navigate
without the help
being offered
or
if i simply
wanted to
force myself
into failure

I reach into myself
Find the tiny strong voice
Who knows who I am

Present in the moment
Assured in all my actions
Aware of all my value

An un-earthed superpower
I'll grow to become her
The strong woman inside me

I can do this too, when I'm not au naturel
And trying to beat all of your @sses with how well
I make the gentleman, how excellently I am the imp,
How swell I step, dancing, aside, how terribly I simp -
Sometimes catch me getting back and giving the barman a chance -
I heeded their call; I washed off the day, and stepped into a trance
Of raspberry, rose and sandalwood; I donned my blue and pink silk,
And my black boots, tights and blazer - She's got style; And in that ilk
I also painted my face, with blues, whites, pinks, blacks, golds
And it was late when I stepped out, and in the very holds
Of the night that a lady like I should find terrifying, but I walked
The quarter of an hour to the Silk Mill; talked
For something more like four or five,
Face sharp, hair artfully mad, alive
In every sense, aided by the fine cocktails in this student setting
I could enchant all in four languages, and I did, forgetting
For a bit that another one of my faces I believe to be repugnant:
Because it begs for attention; and my current, commanded it
Because I came expecting nothing, and asking nothing,
And I quite frankly didn't give a d@mn about much of anything,
But if I wasn't very much a part of the room, and very much she
Whom every boy needed to speak to, and would ideally keep the company
Of, if that wasn't I
Then every lie's a truth, and every truth, a lie.

You dont need people
To see your strength
To convince yourself
That you are strong.



You are.

the problem
with buying clothes
these days
is not knowing
if anything
will fit
properly
or even
suit you
until it arrives

instead
rather than
just return items
that i decide
i don't want
i hunt for
a loose thread
and pick at it;
first
with finger and nail
when that is not enough
next comes
a gnashing of teeth
and
if needs be
i am not above
brandishing scissor
or knife
to split the seam
gaping
wide
before complaining
that the item
is faulty

i am never proud
of myself
when i do it
there would be
no difficulty
in returning it
as unwanted
but
this way
i don't end up
paying postage
twice

i tried on
a new shirt
it fitted ok
not perfectly
by any means
but well enough
               for its price
it would be suitable
for the occasion
i suppose

it could perhaps
be a little longer
as it is liable
to ride up
and reveal my stomach
if i raise my arms
it's also
a little tight
across the chest
if i'm honest
and
now that I think about it
i'm not certain
it actually
suits me

i could just wear
one of my other shirts
that would probably
be more comfortable
and would
save spending
needlessly
there's the old blue one
after all;
i haven't worn that
for awhile

Michele Di Carlo became a freak show
the day he climbed up a tree
To his dismay, that rainy day, he fell
and broke his bone in three

Some say, it could have been worse
a deformity for the hard ******
but humbled now, with a wrist to hide
now that his fingers were all twisted

Yet, no shame is in the mangled
Michele dangled no pity in his pain
He learned to show it off in pride
though be crippled or he be lame

When shaking hands with most men
he smiles, offering a disfigured hand
His strength was in his frailty
a bashfully better and stronger man

For on the day of his funeral
photos reveal before he died
an array display of his freakish limb
his best pose by his side

Even then, Mr Carlo in his coffin
requested only one thing when laid to rest
that when they placed him in the ground
they’d lay his hand upon his chest

Don’t be ******* yourself   self
when you talk   talk
imagine what you would look like  like
if it were a walk   walk
you’ll be pacing back and forth   forth
tripping over of course   course
but only to get up   up
and you will get up   up  
because you can   can
you know how to repeat  Pete
if you’re as good as  as
your talk   talk
up on your feet   feet