he touches me with his silky fingertips and tells me that the sky cannot compare to the space within my heart and he asks if maybe he could reserve a spot within my flesh as if I am a restaurant and he so desperately needs a booth- preferably in the back he mutters.
he says that my lips are were carved perfectly for him and yet in front of eyes he asks me, later? id rather not here, in front of everyone. as if my love can be paused, as if i am something he is ashamed of, as if he does not want his friends to know that he loves me. (whenever his friends taunt and whistle at the way my skirt fits on my body i do not blush, i feel sick to my stomach. it's my favorite skirt.) my boyfriend does not want to take me out as often, and when he does its always the back booth.
is he ashamed of me? is he ashamed that his heart has clung to mine. they say that love is love and if this is true then why are we ashamed by loving someone who is imperfect, someone who is thick, someone who is thin, someone who is dark or light skinned, someone who is ugly, someone who is the same sex- why would we be ashamed?
it is our fourteenth month together and not even his best friend nows about what he says to me at three in the morning most nights we spend together but tonight it is different, tonight his best friend has gone on a date with a picture perfect female and he looks at me with disgust and leaves the room. he sleeps on the couch.
in the morning i ask him what is wrong and he says what he always says, nothing babe.
it is our sixteenth month when i ask him to take a picture with me, and he tells me, don't post that. it is then that I look him in his eyes and tell him that I am beautiful, I am imperfect but I am composed of wonderful things and find you cannot be proud of loving me then don't love me at all. i have spent my life in silence when faced with things that matter and now i am no longer biting my tongue.
I tell him that if he kisses me and regrets the taste of me in his mouth then don't touch my lips again, I tell him if he is embarrassed to invite his friends to our house then he can move out. I tell him to pack his bags, that I am tired of his shame.
he can sleep in the back booth of a random restaurant for all I cared. that's where he wanted to be anyway.
i am not ashamed to say that I am worth being proud of.
- PRIDE PRIDE PRIDE
[in which you must not be ashamed of the one who holds your heart rather be proud that they exist]
