We Are Born Imperfect

We turn over in our tanning beds
careful of our nails
minding our hair.
We fry our skin
our pale, beautiful skin
shield our eyes
but not from the sun.
We change our bones
because we are born imperfect.
We pierce and dye our skin
like fighting savages
pierce with teeth
dye with blood.
We poison ourselves
not for the cause of dying
but for the chance of living.

The cause of death.
The chance for change.