Revision: Interest in Beauty

I was twenty two when I first realized that for some, I just won’t be enough.

That’s vague isn’t it?

I was twenty two when I first realized that for some girls, I just  won’t be enough.

Warmer. But we’re not there yet.

I was twenty two when I first had my heart busted open by a girl whose eyes made me feel like I was being beaten by something so graceful it lacked a named.

For the sake of simplicity, I called it beauty.

And begged it to have mercy on me.

I’ve spent months not writing these words.

Spent months on my knees–

praying for forgiveness

at the alter of some pretty girls thighs.

No one taught me about the lies I would swallow

somewhere around four am

her teeth on my neck

her thigh between my legs.

Wolves still play dress up, you know?

They slip into skin

and appropriate pain.

They offer you sympathy in the form of a carnal symphony.

They’ll tell you they love you

And those big eyes will dilate,

and fix

no mercy on you.

 

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Leona View All →

30-something Mississippi queer. Bleeding heart with a soft spot for honesty and oversharing. Conquering corporate America and my own insecurities– one day at a time.

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