pyramania
My feet hurt
not from walking on broken glass
or from pushing strollers through the Magic Kingdom
for days on end.
I haven't been stomping down the Devil
or even dancing away my inner demons
Outstretched arms spinning
Hips swivelling
Knees that rise and fall
The heels and balls of my feet
have been alternating their pivet
pounding and thumping the ground
grinding out your perceptions
Am I turning to dust my inhibitions,
brushing away the residual facade,
to reveal a petrified self?
Or do we just become more comfortable
when our skin is brand new?
With a cigarette in one hand a string of try-too-hard pearls in the other,
is this any more me than jewelled hair clips and Matcha green tea shots?
not from walking on broken glass
or from pushing strollers through the Magic Kingdom
for days on end.
I haven't been stomping down the Devil
or even dancing away my inner demons
Outstretched arms spinning
Hips swivelling
Knees that rise and fall
The heels and balls of my feet
have been alternating their pivet
pounding and thumping the ground
grinding out your perceptions
Am I turning to dust my inhibitions,
brushing away the residual facade,
to reveal a petrified self?
Or do we just become more comfortable
when our skin is brand new?
With a cigarette in one hand a string of try-too-hard pearls in the other,
is this any more me than jewelled hair clips and Matcha green tea shots?