The drooping sun stood across the wooden bow,
showering it with drowsy thoughts for the wooden boy
In the abandoned graveyards where pavements were abolished
Plaid plague nourished the jingling broken eyes

The graveyards of dreams and graveyards of clocks
Will deliver the nails of sorority locks
To cradle the soft heat of the drenched sun
To bring on temptation of demolition’s sons

Let’s say that the pavements of hopes were of pain and vain
The vines were vanity and the roots were dignity
If agony keeps us close to our core,
then drench pins on my head to keep me human

Looking in the mirror
faults shine,
imperfections, bold
the ugly rips through the skin

So we brush on the gorgeous
the ****, the beautiful
everything we want
hiding what we are

N. Hedges

Peering at the luminous cheval glass stands a wide eyed girl.
Porcelain powder conceals
  the freckles that she hides.
Flushing cheeks with rose before she enters the side—
Of the stage on which she plays every day.
Lips of scarlet
Lashes black as night
Face framed with golden locks curled tight.
As the curtain rolls back
The crowds will applaud
   not because of her image.
For Vanity is flawed.

Kindness in her crystal eyes
Comfort in her smile
Words of encouragement ring throughout the aisle

When the curtain closes
Spectators disperse
It's evident
Her lines are not rehearsed.
Clean face
Frizzy hair
The cheval glass reflects
   kindness
   poise
   elegance
Gleaming from her left chest.

I told you that night
When the temperature hovered
At 32 degrees Fahrenheit that
Girls like me don't have a god
We are the girls with
Dark cherry lips
Cigarette smiles
That get drugs for free
We break hearts
With no remorse
Vanity is our religion
Always made up for photographs
In thick makeup and black clothes
We worship our goddess Aphrodite
And she gives us the power to be
Invincible

Who am I to tell myself what I am?
To think I can evaluate my life is a lie;
I'm not even sure I am real.
Talking myself up will only lead me to fail.

To think I can evaluate my life is a lie.
Protecting my skin will surely lead me to break,
Talking myself up will only lead me to fail.
Dying is the only way to live.

Protecting my skin will surely lead me to break --
I am not worth the wasted efforts of vitality.
Dying is the only way to live.
If everything is vanity, why not be nothing?

Who am I to tell myself what I am?
I am not worth the wasted efforts of vitality.
If everything is vanity, why not be nothing?
I'm not even sure I am real...

Glow bugs chew up home  .  .  .
**** branches climbing to sun,                                                    
  .  .  .  Bark at base of tree.