“The Emmett Weathers Drugstore Guide to the Human Body”
The breath I take holds a grudge on my lungs, it wishes to free, to not need me,
The tears I cry turn my golden skin to rust, I’m wrapped in everything you cut,
Bracelets cover bandages, like your hand covers your mouth, I haven’t left this room in days, I won’t let myself out,
The orange and red in my hair mimics the sunset like stained glass, as i lay against the window wishing to be on the other side,
My forked tongue betrays me, only split because I can’t think of what to say, if only I had more time, to mesmerize my lines,
The metal in my mouth, just below my lips that fall apart too easily, it represents the lock that broke, years ago, when someone pried it open,
I would have bit my tongue but I was busy with too much to chew, and now that my thumb and pointer fit around my wrist I can start again,
The rest is all in the small things, like what I wear the burgundy, the words of others from thigh to shoulder,
And everything in between like the notion it wouldn’t hurt,
Just as much,
To watch you smile,
Without my help,
-E. T. Weathers
Again, sorry about the bad quality flip phone pic, I took it in a park bathroom with mirror out of horror flick, I just never feel like taking pics with iPhone. You can hardly tell my hair is red xd