don't trust a boy with black eyes
who talks as if any second
he'll devour you.
he'll rip your throat apart
with pretty words and leave your chest
an empty garden sprouting weeds.
words like that weren't made for me.
the way they flow too beautiful;
this harmony in their consonants too perfect.
i've had my body etched with ugly words,
but never have i had poetry whispered into its scars.