I’m a tissue that falls apart after too many tears.
A pedestal to stand on and get a better view.
I’m a tattoo in a crisis — full of emotion and aesthetics then but has no value now.
I play my part as a phase so well.
I know my role and my place — how to put a smile on your self-absorbed face.
It’s my comfort zone and my biggest resentment.
I don’t know what about me makes me temporary.
No matter the severity —
I can be your everything,
but only for awhile.
I’m the prettiest pencil who craves the permanence of a pen.
So I’ll ink my heart and carve your name in with a knife.
And when you’ve cried all your tears and seen better views.
When you’ve pretended I meant something with that God damn tattoo-
When I’ve been your Savior and patched up your wounds.
You have an eraser.
For where I penciled your heart.
But my heart beats different.
And I have a scar.