Don’t fall in love with me!

Loving me is a terrible bad idea.

Don’t do it. Just don’t do it.

Nike meant that for sneakers.

Im terrible. Im messed up.

My body reeks of the scars and clots from a past that refuses to stay in the past.

The black and blue shaded blotch of skin peeping from my inner thigh is gone.

But my inner thigh still carries the weight and grunt of it .

The hair that was pulled to forced my legs to spread has grown.

But every time I comb, it mourns with a strand or two on the ground.

The legs that he spread to satiate his manhood has become thicker.

But every month I bleed between them, drop of my blood cries out in pain.

Loving me is a terrible bad idea.

Stay away. Far away.

Im fat. Im flaky.

My skin folds in places that folds don’t hold together. It falls apart. Like a pack of cards with the Queen facing down.

My face droops to my breast with skin that sulks every time I see a thin girl.

My feet that is worn out with all the years of running away from misogynists and patriarchates.

Baby please, don’t fall in love with me.

I’m earnest and passionate.

I have a heart that oozes sensuousness and a mind that spews sensibility.

I will sit half naked next to you and finger myself all night reminiscing my childhood memories.

I will bake blueberry muffins before you crawl between the sheets and I will eat them off your chest.

I will read out my favorite verses from my favorite book out loud when you are in the shower.

I will take photographs of you when you sleep and shave.

I will let you go when you want to go for baby art is all about setting it free and you are my most favorite piece of art.

I will ask you to let me go when I want to fly from our tiny kitchen window that is painted in purple.

Don’t fall in love with me sweetie.

For, I’ll love you in a way that you will hate the feeling of love when you fall in love with someone else.