Oh little girl, how do I love thee?
Let me count the ways...
1...
deux...
tres...
four...
5...
I have lost track
For what seems to need love
When the redness of love seeps from every time I count off a number
Staining your clothes
Your mind
Your heart?
You may bleed whenever you scrape yourself and fall
But why do those scars make your broken
More beautiful?
Tell me, little girl, you insolent child
Why are you called sweet
When all you do
Is cry salty tears?
One, two, one, two, one
One
One
One
Timed, a broken metronome
Like the beat of your heart
Which pumps blood in an untraceable
Uneven manner
Your skin turns to colors when you fall;
A kaleidoscope, dangerous
Purples, blues, sickening yellows...
Red.
YOU ARE READING
All that Remains
PoetryThe girl of paper skin and diamond tears and a glass heart lives and loves and laughs, but what will happen when her skin is torn? Her heart shattered?
