Growing woman


I love plain texturized walls;
How they bruise your knuckles when you forget to caress them
How they don’t judge you when your sobs sound like something between a bleating goat and a muffled choke.
How they pretend like they don’t notice that last night’s lover had softer skin than the one before
I love how ex’s enquire about you from the bottom of their guiltless souls.
“How are you?” “Are you okay?”
Fuck you and your questions.
Leave me and my twitter account alone.
I am fine and fabulous.
Breaking up is not a short distance trip from which you arrive from
Today I’m a growing woman; whose waist is sharing joint custody with the folds in her stomach, the newly sprouted hips, and the knots in her back.
I’m prouder of the way my name sounds like on the lower lip of a foreigner
I’m much older than the last man I kissed.
I woke up this morning and realized I’m god of this breathing land.
This is my love story.
This is my heartbreak


One response to “Growing woman

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s