you swept the sun-drenched lush oak trees i watched grow for 7 bucolic years. there are nails pinned in your face like decaying oral molds , except you're not jesus. you're a practicing jew. Sylvia Plath wannabe. you say things , cruel things that make ivory tusks grow out of your trapezius and I watch in envy because I am not as beautiful as you.
the fetid nails decay off your face and I see who you are. a rotten ogling banshee. an art museum could never be as magnificent as you.
you're so much more than perfect when your eyes eject silkworms in the fertile soil. i accept i can't be as beautiful as you.
YOU ARE READING
how do i tell a girl i want to kiss her
Poetryi broke my tooth while hiding from you
