A girl looking at a boy looking at a girl

I spent an hour awake

tired out of my own sick mind

trying to find a moment

when this body

this infection

living on my bitter brain

(the same as his

might I say)

when this

‘tired of your eyes’

skin tight frame

wasn’t treated like meat

offal and blood beat

a pulp

spat and secreted

I try and imagine a moment

when there won’t be someone

who would find me appetising

want to bite or tear

and consume me

from child to mother to old age

in and between

every centimetre of life

and it’s sort of funny

suffocating

body rid of air

or worse

purpose

when you realise

you’ll never not see that glare

side eyed stare

at my skin

my pink speckled flesh

gross and unloved

but still makes him salivate

pleading for more

there isn’t a time

I’m afraid

when I am not there to ingest

And it all comes back to him

looking at me

a girl looking at a boy looking at a girl

20.3.18

She knew we were watching

and everyone else

As she led her parade

of butter skin

and salted and bleached hair

past boys who shouldn’t be looking

and girls who couldn’t stop

because these newly bronzed baby faces

are kissed and caressed

by our eyes

and they savour

the judgement

that imprints on their damp skin

and they pretend it’s a compliment

but this compliment

will bite them tomorrow

when they look in the mirror

and see our eyes looking back

 

My train is delayed

I fell to my feet metaphorically
As I poured my heart into her half empty half full glass
She drank it pensively
Balancing each drop on her manicured lips
And told me she wasn’t good enough, was she?
When I’d tried so hard to persuade her the opposite
And that was why I was leaving
For she never knew
Never tried to understand
How hard it is to watch her split and rip every centimetre of her body
Screaming out
And in
Praying for some different skin
Or limb

And then a stitch broke away from her lip
And her nose cracked, crackled
Eyebrows ruffled and spouted
And every individual lash fell out
A thin clean break from forehead to temples
Lets wrinkles form in the spaces
Cheekbones became cheeks
And jawline became jaw
As every inch of created self
Slipped away from her skin
And fell in a pile at my feet
Every detail so closely planned
Became ever so incomplete

And I told her she was beautiful
And she replied: not beautiful enough.