what kind of honest are you looking for?

were i to ever stop and pause

(and the goosebumps come already,
coating my bare legs,
tracing the outline of my finally tanned shoulders
a poor reaction
to internal cold)

i think that i should want to make a change.
a change the way i regard and portray those around me,
a change in the way-

(and my hands start to shake,
chipped purple - it's always purple - nail polish,
fidgeted and ticked onto
a grimy, old black keyboard,
borrowed from an old relative
or two)

and i'm not saying that i wear rose-colored glasses

(in fact, i admit,
likely, quite the opposite,
if i had to color them,
they'd likely be something like s**t-colored
or that clammy green one turns before vomiting)

but perhaps i'm not particularly honest?







and who's to blame,
i mean really,
the mess or the "parents" who taught her to behave that way?

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

it's hard to say who's to blame. it's a question of nature vs. nurture. i believe it is both. i agree the rose colored glasses may as well be s**t colored or vomit green to see beyond the facades. great work.

[Kaya]

I really like this, you write quite cleverly, with a clear attention to detail. You have a way of really bringing an image to life, which i find rare in poetry.