Pretty, Like That?
Is it easier to be coded and hard to decipher?
by Eloisa Gearhart
You can be labeled...
a lunatic, mysterious, troubled
discarded into a mildewed cardboard box
Tiptoe walking upon the rim
absorbing the constant stares of adoration
from others who are appreciative of your name or fame
who accept you only because you are bizarre as a circus act
no froth from damned words
of chapped lips that parted
The issuing of a blessing and a curse
Cleanly, 'There be none of that making you nauseous,
causing you to turn your head away'
staying where I belong
like the China doll still in her box, untouched, preserved
with her too white and frozen skin
wearing the same grin that haunts me if I stare too long
Pounding to your rhythm
pretty as a flower
a virgin in the meadow
You pluck and spin
carrying the aroma on your fingers you walk away with it wilting in your grip
Would it help if I was pretty, like that?