poem about a girl trying to make a boy love her |
a. i dissect butterfly wings and place the stained-glass shards of beauty lifted from their corpses under my plastic-wrap flesh, in some sad, sweet hope that i can become as beautiful as the bugs that you were compelled to destroy because of their obstinate splendor. b. i take mascara and eyeliner to my face and try to draw on some pretty or perfect emotion, but i end up looking like a clown, which is sort of really funny because of how numb and sorrowful i have become just to become appealing to you. c. i take the mutilated face of a shaving razor to my skin and hack out the splinters of butterfly beauty because you cannot stand the sight of the scars that i left implanting the broken wings. (don’t you know that i would do anything, anything, anything for you? don’t you care?) x. i pluck off all of your eyelashes like a lover pulling daisy petals in the sunset-splashed afternoon, and i peel away your flesh like a native stripping away the bitter skin of an exotic fruit, just so maybe i might not love you quite so hopelessly. maybe without your looks, it might be a little easier to l e t g o . |