So many shapes of you
So many colours and different
Figures and contours,
Morphing together and drawing
Apart to form all sorts of
Prettiness;
Prettiness I can see,
Prettiness I can bite,
Prettiness I swear I can feel
When I close my eyes.

And when they’re closed,
Shutting the world out
While keeping your warmth inside,
I can taste all your shades of
Purple, blue and yellow;
I relive or perhaps reinvent the
Concept of falling without stumbling,
And seeing without believing.

Trust.
Now that’s a word.
A heavy subject.
An entire lifetime in itself.
A canvas, ripped pages,
Memories strewn across the bed
And dipped in tasteful ink
That’s dyed gold but dries silver.
Are you gilded sincerity,
Are you multiple persons in one
Shell, contrasting and conflicting
Until you can’t even breathe?
Or are you what I see when
I close my eyes?

Trust.
That’s a big word.
That’s a whole universe I’m afraid
Of submitting myself to.
That’s years and years of
Realizing we are not who
We are appear to be,
We are not who we make ourselves
Out to be,
But rather what we long to become
But will never fully attain.
(And I hate myself for it).

You know what it feels like to hate?
Because I don’t.
You know what it feels like to love?
I’m not so good with love.
But power.
The complete inability to trust
Because of someone’s strangling
Power over you.
Yeah, I can tell you a little bit about
Power.
It starts with words I was
Too young to understand,
And if I let it,
I think it’ll end with you.

If only I could see the light.
But I can’t.
(And I hate myself for it).