Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

dawn in the hollow
mustang horses...slashing hooves
against the rib cage. I burn,
a pyre on the inside
the outside a ruse for the public
that's squeamish. I dig
they are not prepared
to drink the urine, Why
would they be, so it's up to me
to contain the reality, dress it up
like a Kardashian , lots of cleavage
and bare skin to distract the consumer
mascara lines drawn by Picasso
coral lipstick made by god almighty
application pretty and straight
powder and rouge, I tell my made-up story
better than the real one, it's all for
a good cause, I'm fine with this,
I have secrets, they are me...
and I am them.

comparisons that at first sight look like a sort of mechanical full time stressful job in your poem sound dramatically playful..., gracias for sharing it, saw!

Very smart poets poem by my thinking.I saw the woman ,in fact most likely many times, always wondered who she really was found out once or twice ,it was quite a surprise as the poem suggests.