Entry XIX

I wore a flower in my hair every day for a week. I wanted the spring to arrive faster. A boy told me I'm beautiful. I sat erect and eyes looking forward. He told me how smooth my body is. It fed my ego. He told me he likes its color. I can't enjoy the sun to keep it. He told me I have a beautiful smile. It makes everything else seem ugly. I'd rather you see no beauty in me. I want my lovers to hurt me. If not with their teeth and nails. Then with their coldness. With their up right attitude. With their willingness to criticize me. With their closed hearts. With their blindness. I got my pride. I got my knots. I got my broken syllables. I got my desire to dance and overlook all of those things. Just don't be nice to me.