Dug under dry cuticles and my wet tongue pressed
to stop the flow
Said I would never do it again
I brought over a box of band aids after watching my veil fly
Said you needed them more.
Every-time I see too,
Hear another scream
I fall to bruise
Worthwhile me
We sat on the stone bench overlooking
dressed up fields
I had imagined it was bean dip
Some pieces whole and the others paste
You were laughing without full capacity to understand
and I joyfully laughed at this developing fact
There was some picture or movie
that had educated my words
Of who I thought I was to become
A certain type
But I said I did not believe in
pre-determined anything
Originality was used over and over
I am a blank canvas,
Artemis cannot love a man
But she can love the wild beasts
My hand asks for your skin
And they stutter over curved spine notches
Understand.
I will not bite my hands again.
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