Summertime Sadness

Not quite seven, and not quite awake, I suddenly rose to your beauty. Unconventional at best, but a refined symmetry ideal for a watercolor. I envied the way the sun kissed you that morning; so delicately pecking your cheek. Your eyes refracted pools of sadness, but an undefinable serenity. Were you safe in my flimsy arms? My pedestrian looks only enhancing your beauty. Was I not enough? Or maybe, too much.

'That' Girl

I always wanted to be that simply beautiful girl. You know, lace and pearls and a deep part with dark brown cascading locks. No lipstick and maybe some mascara. Nothing excessive, just pure beauty. But I am not. I’m leather stifling in the Florida heat. Shreds in your tights and an uneven part. An overprocessed blonde and seven rings. No simplicity because it’s never enough.