To You,
I offer you my palms cupped in a pool of light,
where twilight stars burn a hole in my heart.
Stars aren't meant to be held by these hands
cracked,
with peeling porcelain mistakes i'm sorry,
drowning in tempted desires and unseen intentions
just another forgotten/hidden/broken/thiswilldo ornament
lavished with lacquer "how beautiful!" and gold leaf
ever so silent, smiling, with tired eyes
telling you how much I love you
(and the pain you've given me)
your ornamental daughter
fuck.
ReplyDeletemy.
fucking.
life.
Parents never really get it. I know they try, but they just don't.
ReplyDelete