i don't wanna hear that i'm beautiful.
i wanna hear how i'm real and i exist and i can leave a mark on the world i wanna hear how i'm a hurricane a tsunami an earthquake i wanna know how i'm paranormal how i'm angelic seraphic demonic i wanna hear how i make you think in color how i make bitter taste sweet how i can walk on wine and breathe pixie dust i wanna hear how i'm carved of ceramic how i'm a doll how i'm a dream girl i wanna hear how my red lipstick reminds you of gore and blood and sugar.
if you're going to compliment me, you're gonna have to try harder.
because i make starlight bend to my desire i collect constellations and tuck them away under my bones the cobwebs between my ribs are littered with celestial bodies-
but sure, minimize me to a single, overused word.
i'm beautiful.
