Skinny girls bleed flowers, or so I've been told,
And when skinny girls cry, they cry skinny tears of gold,
And when skinny girls are happy, their smile is beautiful and bright,
Even if their under eyes are darker than midnight,
The gap between their thighs is larger than their will to live,
And each breath they take is more than they can give,
And their scaffold ribs are precious but ready to fall,
But everyone loves skinny girls, everyone loves those who are small.
Skinny girls bleed flowers, or so I've been told,
But there are skinny girls, very beautiful, skinny girls, who will never grow old.
YOU ARE READING
An Amalgamation of Words
PoetryI'm almost as bad at writing descriptions as I am at writing poems, but at least I tried. Sharing my inner turmoil, one poorly worded sentence at a time.
