26/2/18

I wish to be smooth all around, 
covered in satin,
dropped in silk,
laced with passion. 
Flourished with delicacy, 
dusted with grace, 
and sealed with mystery. 

Yet I am covered in bruises, 
jagged from my cuts, 
burned from my beliefs,
twisted into shapes,
torn by my indecision, 
choked into three different and new positions. 
Each one the same but slightly different.
Each one are to blame for my flaky and crude condition. 
Each one, the root and cause of my trust and need.
Each one, never truly satisfying but feeds my greed. 

None of which gives me the peace I grasp for.
I continuesly circle around, wishing to be the girl you’ve asked for.