strange beauty

"You are terrifying, and strange and beautiful.
Something not everybody knows how to love."


Trace the contours of my body like a brail scarred in places only desperate vowels can correct.

All slight finger tipped and stringent and everything Venus pulses against on a scorched summers eve.

I look better wrapped in almost silence, on the brink of soul encased in the blistering moonlight.

A violins high e tremor ricocheting between the smoke in rising lungs, and abstract art ducktaped across bloody cries.

I'm tired of waiting for the liquor fueling our bruised lips to kiss glory and pretend for a night that we held freedom in a scream better left in the back of a fantasy.

I'm so fucking tired of waiting for my skin to peel back and for my existence to need anything I could break into raw shards of beauty.

I don't want you to understand how to love me.

I want to discover how intimate the goddess chaining my vulnerability in question truly is.