i am most beautiful when no one is looking

20Jun08

i wouldn’t know what to to do with a man’s love if it was given to me. one shouldn’t waste their time with me in my bed, my bathtub, my hands. you must be trying to trick me if you’re interested. waiting to ask me to the dance to pour pigs blood all over my dress.

would a man run a marathon he had not prepared for. who passes up a quick summer read over a lengthy, drawn out novel with challenging english. does he ever have a desire to commit to a mountain climb.

my foot is swollen with mosquito bites. i can see the honeycomb shaped dimples on my thighs because of all the neglected fat. there are no lights. my shoulders hurt. my sternum cracks the way knuckles do.

i remember thinking about telling him that i couldn’t be normal around him because i needed more time than he was willing to give me. maybe if i was like all his other women i wouldn’t need time to settle in and adjust to my normal self, i’d be normal straight out of the package, the two worlds would fuse into one, i’d get picked first, like a piece of candy and eaten without hesitation.

after i stretch out long in a vast ocean of verse, i will die, and i will be remembered because i am cosmic and circular, i have much flexibility in my voice, it changes color, like the chameleon, it speaks the language of unborn babies thousands of years premature.

i love when people reference the moon. i often convince myself they are talking about me.

Filed under: brain matter, curious, evolution, knowledge, moss child, so much exists outside you, what the world is made of   |  2 Comments