In marble abandoned houses
perfect women sit there singing.
Learning to be Goddesses.
Learning to be.
in their own flesh, perfect.
in their own heads, perfect.
in their own.
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About Me
- Megan
- I'm explorative and exuberant. Wildly unrestrained. I'm five feet and five inches of flamboyance. I'm by all means a fighter before a lover and a lover before a friend. I've evolved intensely over the past few years. I've shed my skin as a destroyer. I now call myself: creator.
This poem makes me think of beautiful housewives you sometimes see whose husbands cheat on them or don't appreciate anything they do.
ReplyDeleteThere's also a strange clash I feel when it says "in their own flesh, perfect" because flesh reminds me of squishy play doh cover over a skeleton. I feel like if people could rip their skin off, you could see their true personality underneath.