portrait of the girl in the sundress - a spoken word poem

is it better to tell or is it better to just go?

leave the door slightly open so they know, but don't prod

you stand staring through the gap at white lights

within sight, you can see the little things:

the details in a world of whole

in a world of headlines screaming "danger!"

and unorthodox warning signs from this stranger

pressed indents on the backs of the pages of her

blurred

sharp teeth marks and gel pen ink on her skin

you see a lyric of her favorite song written

on her wrist where silver stars glisten

but she pulls down her sleeve

you don't want to leave just yet

you can only see her through the open doorway

and there's no way you could get closer

she looks lethal, black hanging under what they'd call beautiful

no smile, just a straight line,

straight like she is not but endless

too complicated for you to even process

she's in that yellow sundress

even though she hates how she looks in dresses

when she wears them in your head she looks far from a mess

through the little peephole you can see her as she is:

jeans that cut of at her ankles and she hates that

she's sad and alone and reaching out for nothing

and you hate that

but you don't move forward still

because your mistakes have the capacity to kill

what's left of her

she looks just like the girl behind your eyelids

that firm believer of true love's kiss

midnight

under the covers with the dim light against your face

you're comfortable even though you're still scared of the dark

and you're familiar with every part of her being

you understand the kindness she allows to come undone

you know how she cries because she can't save everyone

and you understand that she is colorful impossibility

yet when she turns away she is greyscale

deathly pale and unafraid of the incoming light

despite everything, she is still not allowed to sing

when she's gone, you decide you like it better when the door's shut

do you love her?

that girl of magic that you inhaled in like the mist of her morning perfume

you missed her

on those days when your hand would linger on that handle

closed eyes

lights in the sky

that gorgeous yellow sundress that she had saved on her pinterest

that time when the writing on her wrist was your name in uppercase

when you both loved like a promise and you said that for eternity you'd stay

she loved the idea of love

like you were its embodiment

and even though you lacked the right words to say

she let her eyes light up every single day

she is the girl you dream about 

but that isn't who she wants to be

you understand that love is supposed to come and go

yet she's still there on the other side

sobs muffled and screams silenced

she's patient

a beautiful marionette with button eyes

the sundress a disguise for her invalid pain . . .

and as she waits for something that does not exist

the door stays locked shut

because there is no true love's kiss