the girls like you and i hide blood in our mouths for days until someone tells us to speak and suddenly the blood comes pouring out. it splatters at our feet. on their clothes. on the walls and the floors. we both wreck the pristine surroundings of which we live.
the other girls bleed champagne and their laughs grow roses. they wear honey as gloss on their pink plump lips. it drips down their chins, sweet and savory, and the boys eat it up like it's their last meal. looking in the mirror, you see the difference. your lips are covered in blood and what boy would prefer the taste of metal over sweetness? boys that do only wring the last bit of love out of your heart until it's fucking empty. at least, that's what i'm told.
the christian's turn their heads to face me and say some god-like bullshit that is supposed to make me feel like i can be saved. god's house was never home and his hymns are nothing but lies embedded between melodies and latin words. god has sat his entire house on my shoulders and i'm being crushed underneath the weight. i can't be saved, unless i'm saving myself.
YOU ARE READING
a piece of heaven lives inside of me but i don't feel heavenly
Poeziethese words are rotten, but i'll say them anyways.
