You place your hands gingerly on my stomach
Knowing I'll just slap them away,
Because I'm insecure.
But you always place them back there,
Saying "Why do you hate your stomach? You're not fat."
I mutter something inaudible.
"You're beautiful, stop that."
My forehead rests against yours as I pout
"You're beautiful, and you know that I mean it."
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
You place your hands gingerly on my stomach
Knowing I'll just slap them away,
Because I'm insecure.
But you always place them back there,
Saying "Why do you hate your stomach? You're not fat."
I mutter something inaudible.
"You're beautiful, stop that."
My forehead rests against yours as I pout
"You're beautiful, and you know that I mean it."
K
