Train writ: Miss. piritus

train 7:38AM departure, Tuesday, November 27th, 2009; on the train from Bramalea to Toronto’s Union Station, express to Union Station; 52 minute train ride, arrival at 9:00AM. Major vehicular collision at Harbourfront.

oh miss piritus, flesh in disguise,
i watch the fowls feasted by flies

tasteless nature, nothing to hide,
except for the crooked nose i despise

what wonder – to find a male,
with hair dressed by the gales

it’s the morning – must make haste,
a dash of blush across my face

is there more to life, i cannot think,
all i see is the face on my sink

“what a fare complexion, miss piritus,
“i can taste you until i make a truce”

no more thinking, it’s bad for the eyes,
time to cover the blackening with lies

how should the hair come today, i ask.
a bun or the vogue, why is this a task!

can’t i live watching my life,
without a man to play the fife?

looks like another pound, what distress.
i can’t possibly look like a mistress

out the door, prepped in cotton,
why has my mind become so rotten?

try as i may, but hard it is to believe,
i am loved for being naive

the eyeliner, the blush, the strands of my hair,
all stop to see what is all the flair.

i cry on nights i am not abused,
and sweat coffee when i’m confused

a girls’ night out? when was the day
when paint was what made the pain stay away?

out the door, i stayed too long.
never knew how living could be so wrong.