She told me
You are beautiful, don’t forget to smile.
But how can you stretch your lips wide
And crinkle your eyes
When there is a hand sewing
Iron threads onto your lips.
I need some water,
I begged.
I was trying to rust those lines
Blowing some air
Trying to wet my lips
But all I could feel was
The taste of my own blood.
I think its ironic
How the color of rust
And the color of blood
Blend into each other.
I can see the thread melting into me.
Co-incidence?
I think not.
I smile.
TheHyperteen 