at least I was
time is a luxury you can't afford
with the expense of beauty
and those only recognized for there skin
are left frozen in their prime
only to be remembered as a face
a face invincible to aging
and yet here I sit
a shriveled relict
I was not unfamiliar to fluorescent lights
and the weight of powder smearing my face
all just to create the essence of an angelic character on screen
a screen which projected me to a pack of wolves
prowling to devour my youth and beauty
every pack has an alpha
an alpha who boxed me too young
for me to even realize who i was
the alpha who concealed my apprehension of fame to its pack
all buried underneath the surface of my own image
I was howled at to endure manikins pecking at my flesh and bone
all just to transform my personage from the core to the skin
into an idealistic perception of perfectionism
and only to be placed in black and white paper walls with black and white paper people
for the feast of the wolves
under their alpha
my mother
I am her golden daughter amongst the black and white
Tuesday Weld.
