sew the scars on my back together again,
darn them with red embroidery thread
and ignore the blood that drips
tell me about your mom
and why she hates you and why you hate her
sew my eyelids shut
and tell me i have pretty eyes
paint over the calluses on my knuckles
ignore the crimson that tints your paintbrush
i'll be holy again eventually
i'll sit in the church pews,
skirt draped around my waist,
innocence of a good christian girl,
i'll pretend i never drew scars on my legs
i'll pretend i never thought about what it would be like, to be one of them, short haired and
blue eyed and careless, and they
never struggled with a
dress zipper and
jewelry choices and
i'll pretend i don't need to
learn to love
-icarus
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
