Anna.

Lay out the magazines
tear their faces from the seams
skin to skin and wall to wall
curtain closes and you crawl
back to bed with your dirty books
hiding from their dirty looks
nibble at the corners and
throw away the marching band
sam I am
not a man
Lift me from my buried treasure
bleed me out and make me better
loosen the hold of this guilty pleasure
ring me up, tear me down
look at what
I have found

You.
Me.
Us.

Ribbons and curls and bloodhounds and more
razors and fires and mirrors on the floor
blood drops and tear drops and rain drops galore
let them fall
with
us.

skinny | thin | slender
pretty | gorgeous | ENVY.

Hide your face and mend your scars
kill the ugly, broken, marred
mess that you are.
That I am.

Us.
We die.
We fly.
Skinny...