if girls are so good at painting their faces
i wish we could turn them loose on a real canvas
see what they really mean
when they paint those black lines
every girl is a painter
she needs a real canvas
da vinci is lurking behind those sultry lashes
trapped in the eyeliner-barbed wire
a concentration camp of cover-up
clipping their own wings
willingly
with eyelash curlers -
every girl is a painter.
i wonder what faces they would paint
if they stopped focusing on their own face
i wonder if they would still have clown-smiles
and slanted eyes

i am looking for the next van gogh
but he has camouflaged himself
and is dying in front of an empty mirror.

how many stars will have to die
because I have wished them all away so
I can experience the darkness and agony you feel
inside whenever I look up at the night sky .

And I am so sorry to you.
To the nights you spend with your hands
clasped tight around your ears because you cannot
stand the sound of my voice trying to get through to
you so you can see me as your lover.

Puffy eyelids and a red nose that have developed
due to your allergy to pollen since you are forced to
stand outside our apartment day
after day scared to come inside to me because you
feel indebted I am sorry,
as well.

For it is not your fault that you don’t remember me
like I remember you and
you forgetting how that tiny scar behind your knee formed
and it bothers you so much now that you have invested
precious dollars into various cosmetics to have it hidden
then faded away. When you used to cherish
that scar and trace it when looking at mine.
Mine.

The scar that is identical to yours
on the tip of my index finger you don’t
remember it’s history so how could I
expect you to recognize me.

How could I expect things to
go back as it was and for us to love
like we did I shouldn't expect much.
But I do.

Don't
fall in love with her.
For you will both crash
and I promise, you will burn, for

She is the girl with too many wounds
the ones even an ocean of your love can't heal.
She is the girl with scars on her knees
because she tried taking leaps of faith far too many times,
waiting for someone to catch her
but they never did.

She is the girl who will never be with you
even if she is holding your hand
and your fingers are wrapped around her shoulders
and her neck is resting on your chest for
she will always be atop an asteroid
trying to catch moon-tears
because she knows that the moon weeps for her.

She is the girl who won't tell you she loves you
even if you tell her a hundred times and look at her
with all the longing you can muster
because she knows how words can be.
Some words
are only said to fill in the empty silence.

She is the girl who is hard to dance with
because she refuses to be led across the dance floor
she's already been led,
many, many times
and she always ended up
with floor burns, scrapes and sprains.

She is the girl with pimples
not enough to cover her face
but enough to let you know how far into the night she stays awake
writing poetry about 'you'
she's written so many poems about 'you'
because her hands won't stop moving
her mind won't stop weaving and I promise,
you wouldn't want her to write about you.

She is the girl with broken, dead bones
the girl who's seen too many deserts
climbed too many mountains
but she never reached the top or
came to the end of the endless stretch of yellow, but
she can tell you a lot about oases.

So before you even think
of falling in love with her, I warn you,
don't.
Do whatever else you want just
don't
fall in love


with me.