fake love, crocodile tears.

On every level!
Human to human
Human to God
Human to themselves

But we decorate and adorn,
Paint and cover,

Don’t wear make up.
I want to see your cheeks fill with blood,
when my words cause you to blush,
whether it is bashfulness, or hurt,
I want to know if I’m pruning you, or cutting you.

Don’t wear lipstick,
I don’t even want to see your chap stick,
I want to know when I’ve dried you up,
when you’re lips are swollen with things unsaid,
when they’re parched,
leaving only your eyes to be read.

Speaking of eyes,
on their own, they will do,
without eye shadow hue,
no mascara too,
just those woody browns, so I can tell
without looking at the rest of you,
if you’re happy or blue.

And your hair,
don’t straighten,
leave it wild,
I want all it’s body,
all the frustration,
from it’s tips I will know what you indulged in,
and what you deprived yourself.

Your honesty in loving me depends on how raw you give me, you.
I’ll know just how sincere you are by the amount you pretend to be towards me,
how many layers of make up,
how many lawyers of talking brain,
how many walls I will have to climb to talk to you?

If you were sincere, you’d be naked with a woollen cloth thrown over you only.


Any which way you cut it, whoever it is your loving, come naked.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s