there's something so beautiful about making things more than they are; turning boys into flower petals and gods into the not-so-gentle pull of the tide. there's something so alluring about turning girls into sweet raspberry jam and goddesses into not-so-warm winter blizzards. there's something so magical about giving my body angel wings and a halo, something so powerful about giving my heart horns and a forked tongue; turning my mouth into a gun and my words into weapons, turning my eyes into mirrors and finding a way to only reflect the good.
i am not as bad as my script makes me out to be. i am not as good as my script makes me out to be. i am no more holy than i am damned.
my eyes are not caramel drops, they are brown. my hair does not fall in tapioca curls, it's a mess of cheap black hair dye and my natural copper brown. my skin is not porcelain, not cinnamon kissed or sunshine brushed. im pale with a slight tan. my heart is not ceramic, stone, or gold. it's a mass of muscle with four chambers and a bunch of valves. i am not an angel, i am not the devil. i am not a ghost. i am not a ghost, i am not a ghost. i have veins and arteries and blood and bones and organs and nerve cells and skin and flesh and i am not a ghost.
theres something so wonderful about becoming what youre not, what you want to be and what you are.
YOU ARE READING
ur sleeping on the couch
Poetrysticky cantaloupe sunrises & kissing ur soft honeydew mouth
