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Personas Limitation
Personas have limits, boundaries veiled by the thin masquerade of pretense
They whisper promises of identity, yet crack under pressure of reality's weight—poet
She puts on her face while vaping smoke surrounds,
Carefully paints fishtail eyes , studs, and crimson lips,
satin scarfs around hug her hips
Bindi adorned when with the Janes
A sterling nose ring pierces a membrane
Azure pools of light inserted—contact’s atop
wistful deeper dark reddish brown longing lens
Riffles through a cosmetic bag,
Faberge`a final touch then off she struts
Spinning the roulette wheel in random realms
Burned through one persona after another
The mask worn smothers
Charcoal tears pour down her cherry cheeks
Personas have their limitations
Reinventions only break the tiresome tensions
Infinite shades of pale, anemic, listless
Darker are the shadows that deem
Her skin is frail, weakness fills a ship and torn it’s sail
Though her wit retains its cutting edge
out on the ledge an empty soul on trial
Tragic trends suit her
Charcoal tears won’t save her
Metamorphosis’s demise, elusive unmasked
Limited are the bounds of weakness,
Marie-Thérès Picasso’s golden muse
hung herself after his death
Now a frozen memory in the dark daze
as nothing else remains its love’s myth
She played the games we may or not resist
Gone those days frozen in merciless mist
where fate awaits
Copyright ©
I Am Anaya
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