defenses

We are bitter with our cold pretenses as a bee that stings out of self-preservation only to die.
Sometimes our defenses cause us bitterness.
Sometimes they cause us to lay down obediently for an end.
Sometimes we wake up the same way we were yesterday because we became cold to ourselves five years ago and got chained to smoking ultra light Marlboros.
Sometimes we like to think that our coffee break will save us, a sip away from redemption.
Sometimes we take our faults and place them on a pedestal to tell the predators that we are too fragile to touch.
Like buying our fairy dust off of department store shelves, with the flick of this wand I will be ostracized.
Because we like to make ourselves polished and fresh like unsoiled pennies.
Putting lives on trial like stale, old, thrift store prom dresses.
Perhaps the green taffeta will fit us better than the hot pink chiffon?
Parading guiltily before the mirror, that unholy window, to see whether we like the victim or the victimizer best.
Because we are afraid to be born in hot pink chiffon when everybody else appears to don the little black dress.
It would be too forward for our backward approach in an upside down society that values forwardness to a backward degree of angular proportions.
We have already discovered that two negatives equal a positive etc.
Thus in our perversity, we fit ourselves in rags.
The fear we have to learn, shutting out the world.
We may be born in our hot pink chiffon, but we have to be taught to fear it.