‘Preservation’ in poetry

I don’t believe in writer’s block. And I don’t write poetry. So here’s some poetry I didn’t write

in an effort to unblock some of my thoughts about ‘Preservation’, a play I’m in the process of writing.

Curtains for you.

Is it worse to be told though?
To know
That you were only ever your own fool
That strut that snap that saunter
carved you out alright
But just in pastry
Charred now, handed around

Will we send it straight back?
Rewind this black market view
and trade up
to the full horror show
So bright its blue rays blind us.

Will we wish it unsaid as soon as saying?
Burnt by your framed eyes
Blown out in bellows
Will your nails fly, your little heels kick splinters?
Will the truth peel us?
Slit up the middle
Turn inside out
Strip meat from skin
Suck out the flames and leave us raw
To crawl back inside our plastic trays
And beg to be filmed over.