Vrenn

I tell him, if you love me, you need to stop reading the poems. I tell him, if you read them, you will find a version of me you hate. I tell him, if you want a future with me, you will stop reading the poems. Because the girl in the poems is kerosene dreams and ink stained scars and whiskey flavoured fury, and the girl he is in love with is cotton candy soft and summer dresses and vodka laughter. I tell him, he can’t have both because he doesn’t want both, no one wants a girl whose lungs are smoke black rage even if her heart is made of tissue silk. Girls who are both, are too volatile, too painful to love. So I keep he