internal bleeding strawberries
Title: internal bleeding strawberries
Words: 278
Notes: Inspired by the ever-lovely, ever-inspiring Kim JaeJoong. Done for Writing 12 <3
internal bleeding
bloodied hair
In the best lighting he looked like an Adonis on the rise
Lifting his silken arms out of ash piles
With these long, spindly fingers
Broken and segmented
Like spider legs
And he’d brush them through his hair
Look putatively to the left
And no one noticed that the soot left
Giant ashen marks on his skin
Or that sometimes
It wasn’t putative
But lonely.
torn-up fingers
chapped lips
It was possible to be seen with him and not be seen with him
Just like advisors who hum around the president;
Gazes draw themselves away
From you
And instead latch onto him
His wide shoulders
His deep pools of eyes
And leave you in the background
(Even when you were in the foreground)
To nibble on your knuckles
That stuck out of your fists jarringly
And fade into the
Wallpaper.
crooked jaw-lines
anesthetic
There were thirteen reasons you loved strawberries
He was one of them
They reminded you of his lips, or
The swell of his cheeks
The brilliant glamour and
Shape he drew people in with and
You reminded yourself not be drawn in - shouldn’t care
Because everyone did
And if that was all you needed to do to
Seem different,
You would.
off-set shoulder blades
purple-pink bruises
He was a god, a heaven sent - otherworldly
And sometimes you would look at him
And doubt he existed
With his perfect fingernails
Cuticles and joints
And it was only when you saw him
With weights for bones and
Glass orbs for eyes
Curled up so much smaller than himself on
The white velor
That he almost looked human.
internal bleeding
strawberries
Words: 278
Notes: Inspired by the ever-lovely, ever-inspiring Kim JaeJoong. Done for Writing 12 <3
internal bleeding
bloodied hair
In the best lighting he looked like an Adonis on the rise
Lifting his silken arms out of ash piles
With these long, spindly fingers
Broken and segmented
Like spider legs
And he’d brush them through his hair
Look putatively to the left
And no one noticed that the soot left
Giant ashen marks on his skin
Or that sometimes
It wasn’t putative
But lonely.
torn-up fingers
chapped lips
It was possible to be seen with him and not be seen with him
Just like advisors who hum around the president;
Gazes draw themselves away
From you
And instead latch onto him
His wide shoulders
His deep pools of eyes
And leave you in the background
(Even when you were in the foreground)
To nibble on your knuckles
That stuck out of your fists jarringly
And fade into the
Wallpaper.
crooked jaw-lines
anesthetic
There were thirteen reasons you loved strawberries
He was one of them
They reminded you of his lips, or
The swell of his cheeks
The brilliant glamour and
Shape he drew people in with and
You reminded yourself not be drawn in - shouldn’t care
Because everyone did
And if that was all you needed to do to
Seem different,
You would.
off-set shoulder blades
purple-pink bruises
He was a god, a heaven sent - otherworldly
And sometimes you would look at him
And doubt he existed
With his perfect fingernails
Cuticles and joints
And it was only when you saw him
With weights for bones and
Glass orbs for eyes
Curled up so much smaller than himself on
The white velor
That he almost looked human.
internal bleeding
strawberries