• stars

    by  • March 6, 2014 • * Safe for Work *, Confession • 0 Comments

    My stomach is dotted with a constellation of stars
    Perfectly round blue and purple circles
    Self-inflicted, doctor’s orders
    As each one fades it is replaced by another

    Sometimes I stand in the bathroom and connect the dots
    And I wonder if you’ve noticed the galaxy contained on my abdomen

    You’ve traced it with your fingers, touched it with your lips
    But it wouldn’t surprise or offend me if you haven’t realized
    Because bruises blend beautifully in the dark
    My little stars don’t shine when the bedroom lights are off
    And the bedroom lights are always off

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