As someone I don’t quite understand
Parts of me, parts that are other
Figuring them out
Not telling my mother.
Stitching up holes in tights
On park benches
Thinking I look wild, and edgy
Hoping a guy will see me and think ‘she’s cool’
Because apparently I wanted a boyfriend who appreciated
My horrendous sewing skills.
Wearing a costume, to feel more like myself
To be a photograph
To not look like everyone else
Foundation and Photoshop
Fix me up, be pretty
Make my skin who I am, who I want to be
Feed what’s growing inside of me
That can only come out on Halloween.
Prop up the camera
On hardback spell books
Bought from the market, where no-one ever looks
To see how old you are
Or why you want to make potions.
Be still and pose
Look dramatic, look sexy
Autumn wind blows
Shiver in your shabby clothes
In the lens, confide
Only your measly MySpace followers will see
But be sure to greyscale
To hide your acne.
The camera can lie
And so can your mind
Let them play their tricks
Whilst you’re living your life.
Parts of you, parts that are other
One day you’ll know which ones to smother.
I’ve learned since
That you don’t need a pointy hat
To be a witch
And that it’s better
To leave your tights ripped
So you have at least one decent thing to wear