Fast Fashion

A warm embrace by the Sun’s rays

Heat spreading slowly from the center of my eyes

as if arising on Saturday midmorning

with the Sun’s white penetrating deep into my soul

—perhaps not quite the Sun?

Though light for certain and such white rays blinding,

Letting sight in focus, blind to blurry

—artificial?

Tiny sets of fingers, unkempt nails crossing me

A silky thread sliding past my thickness

At every turn a slight poke of needle

But odd without speckles of liquid red

Such rhythmic noise

A regular click, a frequent beep

Startling, no… nor comforting

Hours passed with no amend

Sun’s rays move West, dark following

While blinding rays of overhead 

Remained unchanged

Tiny sets of fingers, unkempt nails 

A child’s tiny fingers, a child’s unkempt nails still cross

But my drooping eyes

Too tired to ask

Too confused to move.

There must be many like me.

Not quite the same color or size

But with similar intention

Planting billowing flags, travelling the worlds

Under unconscious sense of urgency

Faster… faster… Must be there tomorrow

Before world moves on

  1. Purpose

They stared at me in awe

Others pointed, smiling or in disgust

Walking hurriedly from one panel to the next

As I watched from behind the golden tinted glass

Bright yellow lights illuminating from tiny bulbs

Their beads strung from one end to another on 

a thin tightrope of black

She picked me one day

Calling me “Zara” or “Forever”, name of the sort

A wave of elation washing in

As confusion washed away

Thrilled for new purpose in such new world

For just one day a bright spotlight shone on me

Compliments flying my way

Smiles and satisfaction radiated

A fine night spent well and possibly 

the last night in excite.

I ponder as I sit in pitch black

A blanket of dust settling on my soul 

and purpose, clouding my best memories

Surrounded by other rejects

If there something I could have done differently

A simple reverse to my time

If only I could have purpose again

  1. Light

A slow creaking of my door

Such boundary opening with careful touch

The only separation between myself and purpose

Pleading with my chains… FASTER

and hoping for a repeat of joy and laughter

Large hand in sudden grab

A gentleness long gone

A feeling distinct from my best memory

Instead of showing me off

Rather than my bright spotlight of friends in awe

Rather than my jaunty display of radiating jubilance

Rather than a drive through time to the best day of my short-lived life

I was nothing.

Placed in a green tub of maggots buzzing and stench diffusing.

Stuffed in suffocating bags of opaque white

Treated as if my purpose had tattered away

As if I was worn too many times

  1. Falling Apart

A tumultuous ride of shakes and stops

Tossing and turning into heaps of glass

before I saw the sun again.

Today I sit idly reflecting

on the radiant night and wishes

For everlasting bliss

But cannot stop breaking, disintegrating 

into my original elements of toxin

letting go my strength 

to keep together

Whether that would take another year

or a hundred or thousand

As I fall apart into

Noxious methane, microfibers, dyes, 

formaldehyde, perfluorocarbon, synthetics

Petrochemical fiber, phthalates...

Pieces of my resolve break away.