Please don’t paint your face that way,
Innocence is poorly plastered onto your face.
You confidently,
(Quickly at that)
Raise the white flag above your endless shoulders and smile steadily at me.
I breakdown into a million tiny pieces that scatter across your eyes,
Your eyes that are a frozen sheen of the darkest of blues,
An endless lake that I swim in,
An endless lake that I drown in.
All in a slight-of-hand,
You become a white rose,
Laid out unsuspectingly in my endless bed.
The shadows your petals cast out swallow me whole,
Their blackness leaning back further into my bed,
Getting entirely too comfortable.
Against everything I have,
I lay down next to you,
Lay my head onto your stone chest,
Bring you closer to me.
Let your thorns rip my flesh to ribbons.
After an endless night of staring at the wall,
The same hue as you -
I spend my morning listening to the steadiness of your breath,
Your exclaiming of innocence even as your fleshy lips shut and your eyelids
Of purple, rest in a peaceful protest.
Looking closer at your rising and falling chest,
I see how easy this is for you.
How your chest flames up in a rash of red,
Spreading and stretching,
Dying your fake white, a brilliant scarlet.
Your flat lips curl into a smile and still,
Even as your thorns grow in size,
I lay next to you,
As quiet as I can,
I Ask you:
Please don’t paint your face that way.