Vanity Fair

There I was,
surrounded,
unsettled,
a slightly gaping mouth,
with eyes
I couldn't close,
and ears
I couldn't plug.

Amongst some beauty,
real,
so much was out of whack.
To them,
is likely just a game.
To me,
it screamed of
badly containable Vanity.

Flies,
all there really was,
buzzing wildly
around the light.
Or was it shite?

Unfinished,
diminished,
deformed,
huge eyes,
empty hearts,
fluttering details
in front of some glass,
never quite a mirror.

I walked,
just before the puke.
No, I mean,
Thankyou anyway.