My goddesses and gods I am a vane of vanity!
Can I not be ugly? Will I not tolerate myself dirty?
Will I leave myself alone, in ugliness. as others have?
But what when ugly comes calling?
And the other calls stop?
How will I not be bitter?
I know the disappointment
the quiet shock of realization
that it was a thing so common all along. Obvious.
And that much had been assumed to be about something else.
I was doing it to be pretty. For the sex. For sexes.
Wasn’t I? Was I? Was I thinking of another way I could love myself? Be myself? Comfortable.
Was I considering that I had to look good? Was I considering how to feel good?
How to feel good. Helpful good not harmful good. How to feel helpful good.
Was it pressure or was I experimenting?
I feel good considering both. Orbiting around both.
I can’t help wanting to be attractive.
I can’t help not wanting to be attractive.
I want the freedom of ugliness
I want the freedom of beauty
So both then. Full Circle.
Vanity. I escort it through my being.
Ugly. I escort it though my being.
The ugliness of vanity. The vanity of ugliness.