Sep 2016
seeing you is different. its
cold, impersonal. my skin feels the way it feels when i leave my fort in the morning, skin stung with unfamiliar air. i dont go out by choice anymore. i want to be the girl in the pictures, eyelashes fluttering and bangs caught in the artificial wind, glowing. he said i look like her but i just dont see it, im stringy, detached, like a third grade picasso. no one can hold that, can kiss that, can care for that. your eyes on mine feel calculated and i dont know what to say anymore. neither do you. what happened?
cold, impersonal. my skin feels the way it feels when i leave my fort in the morning, skin stung with unfamiliar air. i dont go out by choice anymore. i want to be the girl in the pictures, eyelashes fluttering and bangs caught in the artificial wind, glowing. he said i look like her but i just dont see it, im stringy, detached, like a third grade picasso. no one can hold that, can kiss that, can care for that. your eyes on mine feel calculated and i dont know what to say anymore. neither do you. what happened?
