how i wish to be a pretty girl, who batts her eyelashes and sends waves of lotus in my direction. how i wish to be as perfect and as talented and as beautiful, how i wish my eyes were even and that i could breathe something other than curses into my instrument. i wish i got good grades, i wish people didn't think i was a joke, i wish i talked more and that my hips swivelled like a maid carrying a pot of milk on her side. as i flick my dupata out of my eyes and watch my pretty cousins charm others with sanguine smiles and wet eyes, i start to wonder whether i will ever grow out of my ugly phase. no one spares me a chance, and now i no longer give them one.
•
published a chapter of "too fast" check it out if you want
YOU ARE READING
paraphernalia
Poetrypretentious poetry. FOREWARNING: this was written over three years. my style changes dramatically, as does everything else. quality of pieces varies.
