For You

Call me out on my insecurities,

and I will palpate bouquets out of the gashes

on my skin,

you can wish upon the dandelions that emerge

from my within.

I shall have no thorns; you can pluck for your garlands

all you may,

weave a headdress out of my daisies and your hair

shall never grey.

I will become the Garden of Eden, from where life

itself was born,

but contrast my own eternity, for life without death

is just forlorn.

I will be maliciously elegant, so all you breathe in

is unparalleled scent,

until your lungs only know fragrance and your

feet forget cement.

 

Call me out on my insecurities,

and I will shed them all for you,

so I can be fucking gorgeous,

and you can be beautiful too.

 

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2 thoughts on “For You

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