458. 17/3/16 (#450)
Clinging to velvet
There is more truth around my neck
than there is in my whole body.
And scratched into the clasp
are the marks of honesty.
And clinging to the velvet
is a whisper of who I could be.
But the lump in my throat,
the way my shoulders stretch out
a little too far away from my flat chest
and my hips don't quite fit
the way I want to walk.
Your eyes see body first,