thoughts ≠ sx

white nail polish

my hair is startling against the white dress that flows against my skin, a crisp black constrast.

you are looking at me, hoping i can't tell, or won't notice.

i'll pretend not to, for you.

the braid swings over my shoulder as i watch the warm wind blow through the leaves, daydreaming of a day beyond the white walls of simplicity and the taptaptap of my fingers, in their unsettling nature.

i wish to be calm.

you take my hand as you watch me go to chip my nail polish- the index finger, on my left hand, is always the first to go. you smile and run your fingers over the still perfect manicure.

i sometimes despise the color white.

but it is the color of you, my angel, so i will keep it on my fingernails and on my dress for eternity, so i can hold a piece of you close as i delve into the deeper waters you may not tread on.

and that is alright. seperation is healthy, sometimes you need a startling burst of color against the paleness.

but angels are not blue, nor red.

your halo will always be white.

[]

if i could fly,
-sx