smile my dear - even when it hurts to for your smile may be like the ray of sunshine which escapes the curtains at dawn for another whose sun no longer does the things it is the sun does
How could I love myself If I didn’t study the clumsy crevices that lay in my stomach? How could I love myself If I didn’t nurse the jagged grooves that make up my spine? How could I love myself If I didn’t unearth the secrets that my pores harvested at night? I am touching parts of myself that I have never touched before.
my lover he once told me that he would like to be tattooed onto me but between my ribs pounding with the octaves of his words my skin delirious for his curious touch and my mind immersed with the thrill that he brought forth I forgot to tell him
The day the earth set me forth flowers blossomed in my mother's chest and ivy tucked itself beneath her tendons. Perhaps that is why I forfeit good men for anarchists.