Never have I ever been so envious
of girls who
I cannot relate to.
They left scars on your skin,
deeper and much more
substantial than the kisses they gave.
Thoughts of all the words they’ve already forgotten carved themselves into your skull.
And I’m wondering why you try
to keep it such a secret
one that you’ve only ever told in
lines created on nights you’ve never mentioned.
I wish I meant something to you.
I know of all the good that I can do,
my skin isn’t smooth like a China Dolls,
My eyes don’t give off all the heat
that’ll keep you warm in the winter,
my bones will never peek past my skin like angels wings,
and I can’t laugh the way you want me to.
But I can love you more,
I can love you so much more.