Beauty is in
the eye of the beholder.

They’ll tell you that whatever the object is
doesn’t matter.

But it means.

And you see it,
and you want it,

and you can’t control
whether or not you can have it.

Mom’s always looking
the other direction.

Your legs don’t work,
and you don’t know yet.

I too am just trying
to learn how to arch my back.

I’m sorry,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

You don’t need to know this yet.

Someone’s going to hand you
anything to see you smile.

first published in Blood+Honey