Sunday, 26 June 2011

Under the Lights, Behind the Mirror

The fragile esteem 
slowly crawling it's way 
out of the raging shadows
of torment and loathing 
clinging to the edges of the skin
let me stay, let me stay
it begs 
before being thrown back 
at the reflection
lost in the morphing mirror. 

And then.

looks up 
when the male gaze follows 
in the low lights of a club
the gaze glazed by drink 
sits on the shoulder
look, you've got something

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