She burned your skin with her touch,
nails drawn across fleshy roots
and venom sinking into veins
and fuck, it hurt
but you loved her,
and she loved you,
for as long as it was.
•
She hides behind demure eyes
between the lines that you call
out, behind song, behind strings,
and you taste her,
every time a chord comes
that was written with her tongue
in your mouth.
She tasted sweet, once
but sweet is short and sour is tangible
and you feel her
still.
•
She grinned, taut and gaudy
against porcelain skin,
screamed to fill up the space,
pushed you against a wall,
claws in your face and spit on your cheeks
and a broken vengeance
She’s got teeth,
and she picks your bones from the gaps,
between her canines, her thighs,
you’re ever-present.
•
I am not her.
•
but for you,
sometimes,
I am.
•
you spurn my soft words,
doughy intent,
bare your teeth against my touch.
in the mirrors around me,
her face is the only thing you see,
curves and chubby cheeks,
and suddenly she is beside you again.
the tips of your fingers touch the reflections
to know what is behind,
and she stares back,
and she consumes your sight
of the good in me.
•
I beg for you to please,
fucking see me!
•
but I find
that I am the one trapped behind glass
and as she raises her hand to touch your face,
I can only do the same.
•
Cleanse your eyes and notice me again
because I am
not
her.
•
04/28/19
Tofu 