I am not green with
envy, but black with it.
Biting the flesh of my cheek while hearing pleasantries
exchanged,
running damp fingertips over scars, scars, and more scars,
averting my eyes at a kiss, a breath, a touch,
pressing onto rolls of fat, trying to find purchase on
bone.
Comparing light to dark. Soft to rough. Beautiful to ugly.
The only thing I’m good at is being the
latter.
6 faves · May 18, 2015 7:20pm