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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1602015
no such thing as a two dimensional personality.
Her name was Becky and
she played the viola
(and I heard
she played boys
as well).

Her slate eyes were the
only windows
that revealed the raincloud
lingering over her head,

a storm she hid from
everyone else

(she didn't know
girls like me
existed)

and while other people
looked at her and saw
"fuck me"
written across her breasts

I just saw a painting
running with rainwater

Her name was Becky
and nobody else knew that
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