#girlearth

i. You strike my eyes in some off-kilter way, and I can’t explain it, but I must admit I’m embarrassed by it. You’d say the mirror was never your friend, and, while logic might agree, I’d choke on my heart while my brain tried to speak. ii. There’s labels on every piece of manufactured cotton you own. It gives you some material security while you kickflip over some underlying truths and insecurities. Maybe stranger hearts lie when you cover your name with designer brands, except there aren’t any lies in mine. There’s just a fire you’ll never claim that scared away all the butterflies I never got. iii. I’m seventeen by six months and I’ve never felt so beautiful. I’m drunk off melanin from Spanish islands but even after dipping my toes in volcano springs the thought of you still won’t burn away. I saw you from the clouds, you’re like a speck of dirt in a garden, yet you make it so goddamn beautiful. The flowers make me cry, so once they wilt I keep them on a bookshelf. iv. Two months later and I’m left on read enough that it becomes a constant, but old Hollywood green eyes replies indefinitely. When you’d ask, I’d tell you I’m testing waters, but everyone knows I like to burn my hands and melt my heart like the plastic I always thought it was. Besides, where’s the fun in being loved back?