The world is ugly, but I am pretty.
Well, that's what he tells me.
It's the others we don't trust.
Well, that's what they say.
And, Keeping your sleeves pulled down
ensues questionnaires.
Keeping your socks on during ***
implies issues.
Chapped lips mouthing curse words,
plush stomachs,
innocuous insecurities.
Do they exist?
Do you?
Without a single thought about it in your head,
you no longer know
a misconstrued life styled puzzle
for your hands only.
Piece together a forceful way
to stuff yourself inside a place you don't fit into.
Find yourself.
Between my legs there is a sad girl.
A cosmic interlude loops in her iris
when you are able to see your breath,
untouchable,
but warm.
You feel
held
held
held.
****.
my name
my name
my name
is not pronounced the way it's spelled.
baseless arrangement,
mindless pleasures,
moaning louder than your voice could ever be,
better than your heart could ever wish.
for you,
love you.
for me,
love me.
I'm sorry.