Flourish

May 2017

girls are supposed to be soft

girls are supposed to be soft but I feel too sharp -

my smiles are glass shards splintering

my ribs are twisted metal.

but the blood is only mine

so I turn down the lights

and fill the room with incense,

so I rub lotion up and down my arms,

tinge my photos shades of pink

like blushing cheeks, like rose-tinted glasses.

if I braid my hair and wear thick jumpers

if I watch sunsets and breathe in flowers

maybe the seeds will nestle in my chest

and bloom in the hollowness I feel there.

is it supposed to feel like this?

late nights with dimmed lights

songs blurring in the background.

cold air and knees pressed close to my chest

cotton against skin against skin,

filing my nails into diamonds,

long calls home and the silence after they end.

not all girls are soft

not all girls are soft but she is,

feather-touch fingertips and candlelight eyes.

she has an upturned nose and it’s cute

and her face blooms when she laughs

and so do I.

it’s not real           it’s not anything

there’s nothing to tell

but blooming flowers make beautiful bouquets.

it’s ribbon-tied and ready

when my mum asks me

if I’ve gotten myself a boyfriend yet.

flowers wilt and

petals settle in my stomach.

It won’t always feel like this.

icy tile against my feet

standing in front of the mirror in the morning

just staring, staring.

I look the same but that seems wrong,

dew drips from my eyelashes

and maybe my sharpness comes from thorns.