I am a canvas of all my old lovers--


The ring I wear in my nose was given to me by a boy who hated life
He wiped my tears and promised to take away my fears
But I guess that was a lie because all he wanted was too die


The necklace I wear around my neck, in the shape of a pineapple, was given to me by a boy who's mother knew I loved him just by the way I looked at him
He said he didn't want me to be his anymore
He had trouble showing me what was in his heart
I hope the poem he wrote about me is still buried inside of him most nights
I hope he regrets leaving sunshine
Even though it never was divine
I miss him all the time
No one feels like home like he did


The scars I have on my thighs came from the time I tried to love a boy who never wanted me to get attached to him
He played my heart like his guitar



The bruises on my heart came from the first boy who ever called me beautiful, he molded my idea of a lover when I was young
But he chose great lakes over raging hurricanes
He chose a girl with a chubby face over my warm embrace


My trust issues first arose when the boy with curly fry hair told me not too worry about her.
But I should have worried
He said I was a sunflower
But then he drifted away with the wind

My fear of being naked with someone new first arose when the boy with an adrenaline rush told me speed was always more special than me. Distance drove him down different roads. None of them led to me. Highways and motors made his blood boil more than I ever could imagine. I wonder what else did.

And I am a canvas of all my old lovers