Someone once told me sex is like striping yourself of your masks. Being unafraid to show your flaws to someone you know will love you with them.

Angel Mannequin

Cloth of the king
Tonight I let it rest
The monster that tells me
To plan for tomorrow

Living is simple
Indifferent to indifference
Sometimes slow down

Life's a pill
Poison or peace
It's the way you see it.

Love of my life
You're just a colour
Purple underwear
On a show off queer

I'm not your angel mannequin
Essential fragrance of sin
Look for yourself in dustbins
And all you'll find is safety pins

They're bad at articulation
Dressed in particular
Reflections of womanhood
They can, they could
Choose to do what they should

I undress myself in shameless privacy
"She strips"
I undress myself in virtual insanity
"She's striped"
I undress myself in awkward reality
"She's worth the fight"

Poetry by Zoey Jane
Read 879 times
Written on 2009-03-05 at 19:28

Tags Women  Identity  Postfeminism 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

this poem is genuinely different. im going to have to read this again. very very interesting.