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i am begging you silently,
that you think me beautiful
enough to want, though i'm
a reflection of porcelain uterus,
cornflowers crowning the
dark circles under my eyes

i'm asking you now,
do you want me?

the depths are not so pure
as they tell you

there are dark ridges and
moments where the world
smells of monster and thickly
applied peppermint, masking
the scent of blood beneath

don't say to me that i never
told you.


there is a sickening motion
to this, the way the screen
lopsides as a slippery rainbow,
tapping your wavelength in
two

i put my mouth to the receiver
of the telephone and just breathed in.

now i am scared that everybody
knows this is not a game, that this
is much too real and the worst
part about it is you feel a little
less human

more a wreath of lace and bone,
baked apple and crushed.


you insist i am going to be a
woman but i know i'll never
be anything more than a girl
with sharp edges that make
you want to lean closer and cut

i said it wasn't alright, you should
never touch me like that

but you did anyway.


the flames are hungry and hot,
licking like animals and wallowing
back into the bed of ash. i'll
never allow you to pull me so
close that i might cinder under
the laughing stock of the moon

this isn't about being a whore
anymore

it should be about love and the
sound of stomach to spine washing
up against eachother, whale teeth
tearing at the cliffs on which we
stand.


i am begging you silently,
that you think me beautiful
enough to wait for me.