beautiful girl, you are not ugly.
society is.
indeed you are so brilliant, society can only cower, trying to find someone else for the blame.
beautiful girl, you are not fat.
society is.
indeed it is so large and grotesque, spitting fumes of hate.
beautiful girl, you are not a *****.
society is.
condemning everyone's move, it's hypocrisy could paint the walls.
beautiful girl, you are not a ****.
society is.
throwing itself at every broken promise, silver-polished lie.
beautiful girl, you are not a freak
society is.
howling until all glance their way, foaming at the mouth with every inch of lunacy.
beautiful girl,
you are special. intelligent.
astonishing. inspiring.
phenomenal. mind-blowing.
breathtaking. remarkable.
stupefying. jaw-dropping.

society knows all of this,
but it wants to be the one on top.
so keep your head up, beautiful girl.
and smile.
smile.
smile.

before, i was content with (sort of)
escaping into the sigh of the night.
before, i was happy with (a little bit)
drinking until the walls blended together.
before, i was satisfied with (not really)
the love of strangers.

now, i am content with (absolutely)
slumbering through the night enveloped in you.
now, i am happy with (definitely)
drinking you in until my veins sing.
now, i am satisfied with (no question)
the blaze of your skin, the hunger roaring in your eyes.

now. now. now.
i am all yours.

the marks formed by ruthless tables, i can live without.
the bruises blossoming from falling too many times,
are of no beauty to me.
the scars from too many lost battles, bring joy
(for a little while)
but your marks, bright and vibrant.
your bruises, beautifully blue, yellow and purple,
are my new tattoos, the gun, your teeth.
the scratches etching my back, my blood under your nails,
my cells speckled.
this canvas, your work of art.
this exhibition, your dominance.
none other shall stain me.
i apply the pressure, perceive the throb.
come back, my brute, my savage, my demon,

love bites, i seek.
love bites, i need.

i'm leaving the bed as is,
with your fumes, your impressions etched into the sheets.
a mold in the pillow case.
when i sleep, i'll leave your side untouched.
so when i reach,
i will hold a glimmer
of you.

this side of me scares you
(it scares everyone)
running on open roads, with nothing but
hair choking me. you could never comprehend
the noiseless drowning. the blissful sleep.
once. twice.
i just need the *****, i guess.
your words are sugar, quickly dissolved.
my stomach urges. but nothing ever comes up.
congratulations!
you're now officially in love with a
****** up girl.
a girl with emotions will swing with a snap,
a girl with will never fully make sense to you,
a girl who's eyes never seem to stay dry long enough.
i thought you would
(or at least, kind of)
instead your mouth droops, your fingers fidget.
i need the red. the adrenaline wants me.
i long for it, especially when we lie.
i ponder which item to use. how it will trickle,
and how you will pretend.
your ****** up girl, she loves you though.
so much she can't breathe sometimes.
your ****** up girl, would lie down and wait,
even with thunderstorms and cruel footsteps.
she knows you wouldn't do the same, and every time
she thinks about it, she shatters.

the best kind of love
rips you apart, lays your insides on the floor.
rearranges them, and places it all back,
so the air expands better in your lungs,
so the sun kisses your face in sparks,
so the people around you appear almost human,
so the beat your heart plays finally sounds like music.
the best kind of love,
fills you with love.

this is the first of "I love you"s
where it's felt like breathing.
with my parents, it's always been awkward,
forced.
(even though I love them more than I will ever say)
with him, there was no chance,
(he could never love me, his heart was too small)
with him, I wanted to cry,
(I didn't mean it, I never did)
but you.
I want to say it, all the time.
everyday.
the three words,
I can sing.
shout.
scream.
with no hesitance. no doubts.
just your voice in my mind.