The entire population is masochistic, isn't it?
We burn our hair to curl it into place,
poison ourselves with tobacco and other plants because the cig looks right between our fingertips.
Mascara running down cheeks is beautiful,
and so are too prominent bones.
Has beauty always been one with destruction?
Does anyone remember it's destructive anymore?
When did I start to relish in the burn?
YOU ARE READING
Pondering
PoetryI write because emotion spills out of me. This is a collection of my poems and other writing. "My words are tiny pieces of me, each one specially woven just for you. And I will give, and give, and give, and give, until I am nothing and I become your...
