he’s as beautiful as
a train wreck
which is to say,
almost not at all
yet in his eyes, there
brews the storm of the
century and I fall
unknowingly and
unwittingly into
the slate-grey depths
he’s scratched like
a poem in the hollows
of my cheeks and
the surface of my bones and
even though I don’t love him,
I think it comes quite close
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 7:13 AM UTC
he’s as beautiful as
a train wreck
which is to say,
almost not at all
yet in his eyes, there
brews the storm of the
century and I fall
unknowingly and
unwittingly into
the slate-grey depths
he’s scratched like
a poem in the hollows
of my cheeks and
the surface of my bones and
even though I don’t love him,
I think it comes quite close
