a jar of spilled honey
a wide, open mouth crowded with big, shiny white teeth;
were you thinking i was describing me?
how arrogant, how quickly you assume the worst.
damn me, for loving myself. damn you, for envying the way my visage shifts and shines when i cry.
i am like the statue in
the museum you love to hate; flawlessly imperfect, you cannot help but want to break off a piece.
i am the girl whose hair is always messy and clothes askew but when it comes to boys, they flock to me like flies
to a jar of spilled honey.