Imagine that

I lied to you, yes

But by that point I was already dead

Scolding hot drenched syrup

Dropped

Top to toe

Chewy edges

Find my edges

Stick to hairs

And pull

Make me marble

By that point

I was already dead

Didn’t need to lie

To make my heart less humble

When it didn’t even beat

How do I make myself love

Something already dead

Withered and frayed

Taking too long to write

And too slow to come to terms

With its own insignificance

You’d think

Being dead

I’d know my worth by now

But still I wait for the day

My brain catches up

With my bold and arrogant

Imagination

Inspiration from Cosmo

Someone’s telling me how to dress again

They say my boyfriend doesn’t like the way I do my hair

Or the clothes I wear

And that my skin isn’t quite right

Too oily, too dry

That I have to buy something new

To make me look like you?

They’re teaching me how to get my best angle

To make my bum look bigger

And my waist smaller

And they’re telling me I’m not good enough

And that I need to change

So that the person who I thought already loved me

Can love me again

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