Roll up your sleeves, instead of ripping the skin off from your arms.
I thought I was doing both, but my sweater still lingers on my wrist, and the muscles are showing underneath the hem.
I freeze in the night without my skin, but I push it anyways, to show you the muscles and how they twitch just at the sight of you, how they move at the sight.
"But you don't know, a sheep fur hush." I say.
As girls do, I had plans for tonight.
I say,
"We'll sit underneath the streets lamp, and we'll watch cars almost hit us if not for the curb, and we'll take out another smoke, and drink another sip of whatever is in the cup, and we'll be alright. "
Only it's just me, and we'll not do anything.
I watched the cars almost hit me if not for the curb, eyes are held by the glare of the doe light, and I will be hit, curb or not. I am convinced. I wanna unclench my jaw for once, I say,
"it'll touch my ear instead of my molars."
But still they'll say I'm smiling, I'm always
smiling.
I smile.
Spinning cartwheel circles, in a circle, I become dizzy, the pocket full all falls.
A smoke serpent come from my own two lips, grasps my throat, and the air fearfully scatters.
I will turn a gaze, into the sill of the window, blocked halfway view, and I say "I see you".
I plant my self firmly onto the brick, I push back the organ covering my forearm, pull down my sheep sweater sleeve.
"And you don't see me, you won't see me now."
I say.