a little girl like myself
would think a hurricane like you
a beautiful carousel to ride into

You sink holes into my chest,
burning goodbyes into my flesh
with the ends of cigarettes;
little ashy reminders that
people are temporary.
And like the smoke that
curls from your lips,
tracing the very distance
between you and the December sky;
you escape me.

i swirl in van gogh.
i am charcoal stains
on blue,
a smile of barbed wire
for the painter,
i am mona lisa, true.

monet, he paints me
calm waters,
water lilies floating
in solitude,
he doesn't see
the fire sprouting
in my veins.

picasso cannot stain
my heart with colour,
magritte cannot
create a masterpiece
out of my eyes.

to be immortalized
i beg in pink
lick the brush
and paint myself
alive.

end my days
in escher,
sketch myself
out of the stairway,
into the globe.

throw myself
at deaths eye,
kiss the canvas
rotten, ******,
*pretty.

Flowers sprouted from my body
and their thorns
dug into me
leaving storms
on my mind
and red petals lined
by my thighs

Eerie spinal crack crack crack
keeps me awake as I dream in and out of your beautiful self perception
you slippery queen
who inhabits my every waking sleeping seconds
like a crushed shell underneath my foot
you inhabit so many pieces
so many forms
so many truly fascinating listless traits
that you choose to give to someone that I am not
but that’s alright,
I say that’s alright
because your love is yours
and not mine
but if it were mine I know I’d do something ugly
like hoard it so that the world could never see it
until I die and rot just like the insides of my skull when you aren’t around.