Clothes. She wondered if thin women admired curves the way thick women envied collar bones, the way her breasts outspoke that shirt it was a mating call. I dont care how your clothes kiss you, Ive seen your mind naked under winter coats, crying about how the universe will never take the time to peel layers... only notice how they fit you. If only he would unravel at how he loses your gaze before you sing death traps, numb himself to your vintage eyes to ever notice how imperfect you are. You stopped breathing when his hand slipped under your shirt, pressing his overworked thumbs into the core of your back. NOBODY KNOWS. If you hate the presence in your skin how can you be content in your clothes? If youre lucky hell be so focused on learning your lips he will never notice the momentos from your last relationship hidden under your fabric. The last man loved you a little too hard. Cause when the rain ended, the rainbows submerged around your eyelids, like complimentary colors... blue, indigo, violet. Praying he wont run his fingers over the fossilized blood on your thighs, canvas of a woman, if he doesnt see the hurt on your body hell see the hurt in your eyes. Seeing your linear faults clear as day, he will either be afraid of you or kiss them harder than you cut them, lips that feel like band-aids. He will remove your clothes to remind himself he is a man... or if hes been listening at all he will remove your clothes to remind you youre a woman, a collection of universe in a sundress. Looks at you like a burning building... trying to save parts of you and put out the fire all at the same time. Unravel each of your constellations in his palms and scold god until he begins your recovery. Clothes like petals he wants to pick. She loves me, she loves me not, she needed me but she forgot. Holding your body like a bouquet hes going to present to his past lovers, like damn I found her.. Your fancy underwear, your perfumed throat, he heard his future when you spoke. You laugh and tease like you arent half alive, when he kisses you anywhere but your lips it makes you wonder why. the curves of your stomach... and my goodness why your thighs? When he compares your small hands to his strong fists, you smile at his excuse to hold your epitaph fingertips... and here now lies: a girl that wont admit she was ready to die. Lips like a high speed chase, watching them like he might lose them one day... His hand rests so kindly on your face that you blush, they were red for honest reasons, and a mans touch suddenly had a completely different meaning. Angel you are sea creatures undiscovered, a feeling so foreign, when it feels like you are losin, please remember god still chooses you every single mornin. Please... forgive the world one more time.... You are the sun rays melting the snow goddess, if only you knew it, and that smile and the way you use it, I swear... he would have never once guessed how ashamed you are to be human. #treehouse
Posted on: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 05:38:30 +0000