Scruff

poem

restless;

im sweating but I should be slumbering

haven’t found

whatever it is that will release me

not pretty dresses,

not sitting in cars with scruff

that’s all ive got so far

and so far it ain’t enough

I just want to lie under the covers

with the comfort that I could be liked by boys’ mothers

instead im sweating bullets despite the frostbite

my nipples like daggers

my shirt’s too tight

giving myself scars

under the stars

ive got a pretty face, I know the way to your heart

but this hair in the wind on this frigid night doesn’t even cut it