Feet

My feet give me away

Always. 

I desire dainty little feet

With quaint little toenails

Polished in some pastel hue 

Cut, filed & polished

Er, what I have

Is the exact antithesis 

Dusty dark skin

Unforgiving blue green veins

And rough cracked heels

Too big, furthest from delicate

My feet take me from A to B

That I owe them

And also the fact that 

My feet let me perambulate 

Without agenda

Which is undoubtedly the most precious 

However though

Nothing contains the fact that

They're not how they're supposed to be

Subtle, fair, creamy and pastel

Not that I don't moisturise

Or use foot cream of random kinds

But nothing seems to work it

My feet give me away

They are exactly like my insides

Torn up, exhausted, out of place.

Ugly, dried up and unhealable 

No matter how much I hide,

They show.