pigmeu

As monuments, we collide.

I open my mouth to release butteflies. A swarm is released instead. My dear, I didn't mean to sting you, these lips will suck the venom, I will swallow my own actions.

My dear, I do not care to see you lie. My trust in the masculine gender has tainted, and aged like a fine cheese. I can't reason, I cant lie. I can't make up every good thing I've said about you, it's true.

These butterflies have razor blade wings. they rip at my soft tissue and abrasions are left where good feelings should be. Nothing is forever, in time we all heal. It's the scars left behind that we trace with our fingers and are reminded about difficult times.

I love you, my dear. and thats why I fear you. I'm stubborn, vulgar and indifferent. We both aren't perfect, but our flaws are what make us real. I see weakness in you and Im relieved. Nobody can be as perfect as they would like to seem.

Perfection is flawed beauty.