once i wanted to become a cat with whiskers carved into my cheeks
i wanted them to be red and drip down my face
covering my skin in crimson
scaring anyone who would see me
it would be like my eyes were bleeding
which would be a warning that you have to stay away from me
because i'm contagious
people aren't afraid of you unless you show them why they should be
i thought if i made myself look like a cat then i'd feel better
scars are beautiful to me
maybe if i scarred my face i would be beautiful too
but i never did
i wanted to do it
i wanted to paint cat whiskers on my cheeks with a razorblade
except i didn't because i know if i did
no one would understand what i was trying to do
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem