~
Holding court at the Zanzibar,
they looked on good nights
like Egyptian Queens, like Ancient Babylonians.

On not so good nights,
they resembled Brassaï's Moma Bijou -
"fugitives from Baudelaire's bad dreams",
and even then they looked magnificent.

Identity wasn't something you nailed
yourself into in late adolescence.
It was a trick of the light,
and if you were to avoid
burning yourself out,
then you simply let the flames
lick over you
and turned the ashes into kohl.
~

Putting pen to paper
slowly
                              serenades my nerves
and carefully
                              caresses my insecurities
to make me mindfully
                              and mindlessly
fall
for
every dent
the words put
in my chapter

You feel like
A ghastly mist, crawling up my toes
Touching frozen ground as you wrap
The soles of my feet in pasty white.

You feel like
Wet hair seeping through every thread
Of a pillowcase where you rest your head
Cold, warm, cold, warm—uncomfortable.

You feel like
Sore eyes from screens too bright
As you type in bold, black thoughts
A manifesto of the conflicts within.

You feel like
A room with no light, air, and sounds
Stagnancy echoing—the streaks, the blowing, the ringing
Were all dampened, washed out, unheard of.

You feel like
The sudden flash of blindness in the sky
Overlapping the deepest violets with such crisp tear
And they, too, tear as well.

You feel like
An intrusive intrusion of an intruder
An interlude to all the things you've done
An intermission to the tango that has just begun.

You feel like
A stale yet warm yet ugly yet comforting embrace
I wrap around you just to seep in every inch
Of what only you could offer.

You feel like
The last beginning of the endgame
The enshrouding entrance of what is to come
The naked piece of the puzzle
I have yet to grasp fully

You feel like
Bitter goodbyes
Unfiltered eyes
And crimson skies.

I was always out of style
Always late to trends
I thought I was unique and smiled
Until I really lost myself
I understood what I did wrong
And why I always felt alone
Why people looked at me and smiled
But never really came to talk

Cause my style was ugly
And my style was weird
I never had something to offer
To myself or to my friends

Cause I was always out of fashion
And I was always late to trends
I never knew what went together
Or how to match the colors well

My enhancers
Are chosen carefully
And balanced with my dominant hue
To ensure
They first see just who
I am
And not see me through
my base blue