unbuttoning at the beginning
you start then prying them off
one after the other with force
detaching and tearing the trousers
and every guarding garment
as it doesn't scream but hides
below it's own skin- your life
that you serve at the table naked
for the voracious eyes to feast
mutating it into an escort
with etchings and piercings all over
of all the patterns people preferred
and you try raising the numbers
as the skin lowers it's complexion
beaten, whipped, left bleeding
the seal of validation imprinted
from the red hot iron of facade
marking a symbol of suppression
of the reality to the pretention
and then photos are taken
not to record any memory
but to create the one non existent
to make them believe that you're
what you end up believing you're
but you are not and will
never be.
