Skull

There's nothing dainty about the way my hips undulate on instinct around cafeteria chairs

Nothing pretty about the the agitated splotches on my skin that I wear like body blush railroaded across my flesh

Nothing sparkly about my poems or the way I hold my pen or the way I write my Ks

This is why I hope that you'll love me for the steady burning in my chest and the planets bulging in my eyes

Love me in all of my Olive oil and vinegar, all of my open wounds and scissor hands

I am steel wool on a hot day and i am warning you not to try and use me to wash the sadness off your face

But even when I've splattered my brain matter across the page and all of me is cracked open for you to see I trust you not to try and put me back together but to help me paint a beautiful picture

Reviews

[dan]

This is a great piece, Kaylee; the raw expression of the well-chosen wordplay grabs the reader instantly and holds on for dear life. SO well written and put out, tinged with darkness so, so well; yeah, PLEASE send me read requests so I can have the pleasure of reviewing more of your fine work. Have a nice Thanksgiving! take care...dan

[Kaylee April]

Thank you!